Faith and Uncertainty

Following along on my previous post, one of the struggles that I have had for most of my adult life is an uncertainty.  I venture forth into territory I've not been before, and the slightest hint of resistance, failure or defeat, I retreat. I think that's why I'm so adept at starting new things and seldom finish.

 Or, conversely, something will happen,  like a mistake I've made or a misunderstanding that strains a relationship I value, and I become so heavily discouraged, I just want to give up.      The inner dialogue is one that is negative and defeating.  This is another outward working of my parent's divorce.  My world became utterly uncertain on that day and by extension, so did I.  Uncertain about who I was, what I felt, where I belonged, what I could say, who I could say it to.  Every  person has moments of uncertainty - they are uncertain for as long as it takes to remember who they are and what they are here for - but for those who grew up in disfunction, abuse or chaos, or who experience the disturbance of divorce, uncertainty can be something that actually rooted in their very being. They don't just have moments of uncertainty, but rather they are uncertain in the core of their being - the question, who am I ? is chalk full of uncertainty.

This was me.  This is still me at times.  And no longer is it me.  I am in that place between the already and the not yet.  Already certain of who I am in God's eyes (and in my own) and not yet walking in it fully.  And I accept that.  And I committ to the faith action of continuing on this path of discovery,  healing and change.

This has not been a good week.  It was one of those "I give up" weeks. In the midst of all those questioning lies (who do you think you are?  what could you possibly offer? why don't you just shut up, you have nothing to say?) I told God that I was tired of the uncertainty.

Within a day He reminded me of  a few things ..... that my earliest childhood memory was not of watching my father drive away or of getting a whipping with an electric extension cord or of any one of a countless episodes of sexual abuse - no, my earliest childhood memory had me outside, in an incredibly beautiful rose garden enclosed and surrounded with hedgerows, while skipping on a painted stone path, alone, laughing, and enjoying the freedom of simply BEING.  My next earliest childhood memory was of  running to the back fence of the house we'd just moved into, and climbing up on the fence, to see the kids in the next yard, and yelling at them,  "heh, my name is Rena, you wanna play?!"    Other early childhood memories included me going into the forest to look for a burning bush (I'd watched the 10 Commandments and wanted to find God) and of me rescuing Jesus off the cross, hiding Him in a cave, binding His wounds and risking life and limb to steal food and water for Him (ok, I didn't really, actually do that, but after watching the Greatest Story Ever Told that was the little play fantasy I used to act out ... that, and my Oscar speech)   God showed me that in my very first childhood memory,  I was enjoying ME, in my second memory I was enjoying OTHERS, while the other memories had me seeking HIM.  Love God, love me, love others. Pretty simple.

God showed me something else in all this - the person He made me to be is still in there - she got interrupted and her life got disturbed, but His original design, His original plan, His "wiring" remained protected and intact.  He is helping me rediscover who I am, why I am.  And He has a purpose and a plan  for me, one as clear as the nose on my face - which is pretty freaking clear I might add!.  He reminded me today of exactly what those are, and showed me that while I may have lived a life mired in uncertainty, He has always had faith in me. 

Uncertain in the place between the already and the not yet no more = faith.