"Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not know which to do is the worst kind of suffering." Paulo Coelho
There’s a strange comfort in knowing you’re not alone, this has happened before and someone else knows exactly how your feeling. As I read through Paul Coelho’s books I am finding just that.
“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?” And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down.
I read this today and my heart sank, because I know I am much like Peter. I feel like I am a broken record constantly repeating, “Lord if it’s you…”. In asking that question I feel like Peter knew the answer already. Our fear has a way of making shaky what we know is true. Doubt. This story begins and ends with it.
Until a month or so ago I was in this place of being so angry with God that I felt like it was easier to hold onto that anger than it was to talk it out. So that’s exactly what I did. There have been moments along the way where people have mentioned things that started creating cracks in my shell anger. Thankful that shattered and what remained was a woman who had to decide whether she was going to curl up in fear or step out in faith. I am so glad I stepped out.
This passage represents so much to me right now. And Jesus’ question at the end seem to shout out of the page at me, “you of little faith, why did you doubt?”.
Why did you doubt? We all can list a thousand reasons why each of us, in our own struggles, have doubted. But you see here and I you’ve seen in your own lives or the lives of other those moments when God has shown up an it’s undeniable. Remember those moments and then ask yourself, why did/do I doubt?
Sara Teasdale was an America Poet
Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And children’s faces looking up
Holding wonder like a cup.
Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit’s still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.
Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be.
Don’t forget to catch those glimpses of beauty life gives to us. Between the chaos of our lives and the madness in our minds we’re blinded from so much of this beauty. See it today. Remember it. Breath it in. Let in sink into you. I hope you find peace and rest today. You deserve it.
I long for goodness, simplicity, peace and joy. I love and I am loved.
There is great inspiration and encouragement to be found in the saying of Buddha, whether you relate anything spiritual to him or not. Let yourself read these next few lines with an open heart.
Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.
We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.
However many holy words you read, however many you speak, what good will they do you if you do not act on upon them?
You can search throughout the entire universe for someone who is more deserving of your love and affection than you are yourself, and that person is not to be found anywhere. You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe deserve your love and affection.
There is nothing more dreadful than the habit of doubt. Doubt separates people. It is a poison that disintegrates friendships and breaks up pleasant relations. It is a thorn that irritates and hurts; it is a sword that kills.
Just as a candle cannot burn without fire, men cannot live without a spiritual life.
I’m writing a children’s book.
Working title: “Some Call Me Their Nanny”
He is a Shepard to His Sheep.
I have been a wanderer
Not taking time to seek.
I have moved farther away
Creating distance between you and me.
I fed my sorrow, wore my pain
And silently rebuked Your Name.
Satan wrapped me in blankets of fear.
He whispered disbelief into my ear,
"There is no purpose for you being here,
Go back to where your comforts were near”.
Despite the twisting in my soul
To turn away and run,
I laid down in my defeat
To let Satan finish what he’d done.
But then I heard a familiar voice,
Inside that twisting soul.
A voice that broke down every wall,
Speaking into me love and hope.
“My child, my child,
I’m not finished with you yet.
Come to me my child,
Come to me and find your rest.
From the the rooftops I proclaim, that I am yours.
I am yours.
All that I am I place into your loving hands,
I am yours, I am yours.
Jesus here I am
arms wide open
here I am
heart wide open
Jesus here I am, here I am.