an earthquake had started.
this was the first time, in my life of commonplace earthquakes, that I let my heart quake.
I let my heart fall into the broken earth
I allowed my feet to walk through the destruction.
I let my faith falter.
and once this earthquake began, it refused to stop.
everything I once knew to be true had fallen on the ground.
Theologies, beliefs, values, and goals.
I could barely lift my eyes to see if they would break or if they would remain intact.
I closed my eyes and for the first time,
with honest conviction,
I raged at God for allowing my earth to quake.
I gazed at the rubble and tears pooled like rivers on this ground.
This time he would have to have a reason.
This time he would have to give me answers.
when the earth first shook, I didn't dare look at the ruins.
Instead, I built alters around them and claimed that God made it good.
It didn't matter that there were pieces of my bleeding heart underneath those poorly constructed alters trying to mask my ruins, because God made it good.
this time, I couldn't take my eyes off of the ruins.
So angry, the words wouldn't come from my mouth.
So hurt, I couldn't bear to look at the one who allowed it. again and again and again.
I took down the alters and I picked up the pieces of my heart, still bruised, still bleeding, and I lifted them heavenward.
I pleaded this time. Oh Father, why?
Why again would you allow this to happen?
His answer came, soft and gentle, but not immediately.
it was not until my pain came to a head, the fear bubbled over my nearly drowned heart, and he gently pushed me, far out of my comfort zone of control, across seas of details and safety nets.
He whispered I've got this one.
I trusted and he reconnected my heart.
I looked again to him and he reintroduced myself to me.
I cried to him and he answered.
The answer came from months of confusion.
From sleepless nights and broken hearts.
From late night conversations that spoke both truth and fears.
The answer came how I least expected it.
The answer was not healing and it was not logic and sense.
No, the answer was Jesus. Because it didn't matter how long the pain lasted
or the night pressed in.
It didn't matter if the very sun quit shining and the grass stopped growing.
It didn't matter if this sadness in me continued to sink me like a stone
or this earth refused to stop shaking.
It didn't matter because there was Jesus.
And he was standing on the water and He was asking me if I would follow Him.
His worth shone like gold in that moment.
Because yes, I would follow him.
Yes, I would give him my everything.
Even if everything I knew to be true was taken away,
I would follow him.
But the answer of Jesus brings healing.
His name brings order to my chaos.
Peace to my storm.
Calm to my earthquake.
The answer was that
if not,
He is still good.
The response is
my life completely dedicated to him.
my world continues to shake,
my heart continues to open the door to fear
and dance with doubt
but how I long to keep my eyes fixed on Jesus
how I wait for the day when my confession matches my steps
and my heart is still despite the waves
until then,
Jesus,
I believe,
help my unbelief.
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