What My Soul Knows For Sure

I say I trust God, yet I find myself constantly trying to plan and predict my future. What will happen? Will I be able to accept it? How can I change it or control it? I praise God when the future looks promising, but I question Him when it feels uncertain or undesirable.

In those struggles, I remind myself that it will be okay, that somehow, it will work out for good. I tell myself that if I just keep working hard, have faith, and believe that healing will come, then this season will eventually pass. I tell myself it will be worth it in the end, that I'll even be glad for it. I know God gives me the strength to endure anything He allows in my life. And yet, I still question it. Because in the middle of the struggle, I can't help but wonder: shouldn't He have done something by now?

What happens when that happy ending or answer to prayer doesn't come? What happens when you wait season after season, only to find that you're no closer to your blessing than you were years ago—or worse, you feel further away with each passing day? How do you cope when holding on to the hope of answered prayer only seems to destroy you a little more every time it doesn't come? Eventually, your heart hardens, and you begin to wonder if it's time to let hope go.

They say time heals all wounds. But does it? When we're hurting, everyone wants to remind us of God's promises—as if those words alone could ease the weight. "It will be okay, because God promised!" they say. But the question that echoes in my heart is this: what did He actually promise?

He didn't promise to answer my prayers the way I ask Him to. He didn't promise to take away my pain or erase this sadness. He didn't promise that my suffering would always end with the outcome I long for. If He had, it would be easier to believe the encouragement from others. I would have hope, even expectancy, if I could know for sure what my future holds. But He didn't promise those things. So, I'm left trying to let go of what I want most and find my way back to a life that feels good again. In the meantime, I'm learning how to celebrate others while carrying the weight of unanswered prayers in my own life. And if I'm being honest...sometimes I resent it.

It feels cruel that in the middle of this hard season, I can't escape it. Every post on Facebook, every story on Instagram, every picture on Pinterest—it's everywhere. I thought stepping away from social media would help, but then I was surrounded by it in real life, too. Pretending to hold it together, keeping a smile on my face during the day while knowing I would break as soon as I got home, became exhausting. But that's what we do when we're hurting. We tell everyone we are okay when we are anything but okay. Hiding my true feelings while watching others seem to win at life only leads me to spiral and wonder, "Why me?"—and that only makes the hurt worse. Why does this have to cut so deep? When will it finally end? Why can't I seem to catch a break?!

When I start sliding down that slippery slope of self-pity, I have to stop and remind myself of what I still know to be true. Even without proof in front of me, I believe this is going to be okay. I don't know how or when, but I trust that God has a plan for my life. He knew this was part of my story long before it ever happened. I believe He is good, even when I don't understand my circumstances or agree with His ways. I trust Him, even when I question Him. I believe there is purpose woven into everything I face. So, I go back to His promises. Not the ones I cling to for comfort, but the ones He actually spoke. What did He truly promise in His Word?

Philippians 4:6-7 says He will guard my heart and mind. Not that He will change my feelings, fix my circumstances, or erase my pain, but that He will guard my heart and mind with His Peace. But before that promise comes, verse 6 gives me an assignment: I have to go to Him. I have to choose Him and turn to Him instead of wallowing in misery or complaining about the unfairness of it all. And not only do I have to go to Him, but I have to do it with thanksgiving. Wait, what? Thankful? Seriously?! How can I be thankful when I feel broken and bitter?

The good news is that God doesn't leave this for me to figure out on my own. He knew I couldn't do it by myself. In verses 8-9, He tells me how: I must change my thinking. And He reminds me that Jesus modeled this way of living, so I know it's possible...even in seasons like this. I must shift my focus to what is true, noble, just, pure, lovely, admirable, and praiseworthy. The way to do that is by meditating on these things—not just thinking about them for a moment, but spending time in prayer and reflection, repeating them day after day.

I'll be honest, it took me a long time to even start this practice. I stared at a blank page for what felt like forever before finally writing a few things down. My list is still short, but it's something. Something good to hold onto in the middle of this heartache. And little by little, it's starting to give me a new perspective as I keep adding to it.

I've found that the more I focus on the good, the more good I begin to see. The more I meditate on these things, the more peace I feel. I'm starting to see His hand at work in my life, instead of feeling like He's left me or forgotten what I need. And the more peace I have, the better I handle everything around me. I can feel myself moving forward again and even attracting good things into my life. But when I allow my mind to take over, it always leads to a spiral and a setback. That's why I have to keep reminding myself to return to my list of good. My circumstances may not change simply because I practice gratitude or meditate on my blessings. But my attitude toward those circumstances will change. And the way I walk through this hard season will change. And that can change my life—this I know for sure.