doubt becomes wonder (in romania)

the doubt had become as constant as my heartbeat
it pulsed like the blood in my veins
i was blindsided by the depths of these questions
shaking to my core
because it wasn't hypotheticals anymore
this was about a living, breathing person.

and with my doubt came this fear
he was as wild as a lion
crippling me to be as timid as a lamb.

God said go.
He was kicking me out of the country.
Suddenly, I knew how terrifying it was for Abraham to leave everything.
how could he leave his family?
his friends?
his safety?

this surely was the most absurd thing i had done.
leave the country when everything was falling apart?
they told me to trust God
to believe what he said when he claimed his goodness
suddenly i was David,
distressed and broken and demanding God of where he had been.
but just like David, i knew it to the core of my being.
he is so good.
he is so kind.

i have never known doubt like this
i begin to wonder if this doubt is robbing me of my faith
or if it is very thing that is creating a deep communion with my God

is this doubt turning me into a jaded Christian
or is it allowing me to be shaped, pressed and molded by my Father?

Audrey Assad, a Christian songwriter, who I believe is a pillar in modern-day faith. She is unafraid in writing her honest, painful lyrics. She is unafraid in sharing with a strict community how her faith has fallen, yet grown. Been destroyed, yet made new. In her recent album, she has a song called evergreen. the lyrics have been haunting me.

Out past the fear,
doubt becomes wonder,
rivers appear,
and I'm going under.

just beyond the fear is faith.
when my fear is so deep,
it becomes faith.
my doubt becomes wonder.

because in this deep place of uncertainty,
the terrible darkness that comes with being lost at night,
my fear that he will not save me,
my doubt that he is not there,
becomes wonder because he comes.

like the ocean that changes so quickly,
one moment my shore is covered in grace
and the next I'm lying bare before the sun.
one moment i'm proclaiming it from the rooftops,
and the next I am John the Baptist in the prison cell sending word to Jesus,
"are you really who you say you are?"
this doubt has pushed me deep into the embrace of my Savior
I have journeyed a road I did not ask for
I questioned his kindness,
again,
I doubted his love,
again,
 but he remained who he said he was


I left the country about a month ago. I didn't understand how leaving was the best thing, but I was obedient to the call. I went to the beautiful country of Romania where he reminded me of his goodness. He gently whispered promises of his faithfulness. He told me he did not need me, instead, he wanted me. The people of Romania demonstrated this truth to me. I was helping in a VBS and I didn't know the language and oftentimes, I felt more of a hindrance than a help. The Romanians constantly had to translate for me, but they chose to make me feel wanted and accepted. They knew they could function without me, but they made a place for me to belong. They reminded me that trusting God was about the process and I didn't have to have it all figured out. They showed me that missions is exactly what I'm doing at home. It happens naturally and intentionally. it is a demonstration of who Christ is and living that out practically and faithfully. Romania was a safe place for me and for that I am grateful. It was different than every other trip I have taken. I observed and learned a lot. My heart was given space to breathe and my mind a place to wrestle through my doubt and confusion, to find safety in where I was at in the process, to connect with Jesus. I don't have any wild and exciting ministry stories, I don't have any particular stories that changed my life, but I did witness faithful missionaries loving the people they are called to. They reminded me who I want to be and gave me a glimpse into the future I might hold.
Thank you to those who supported me in this journey, for those who threatened to drag me to the airport, for those who prayed for me and ultimately to Becca and Lucian who I stayed with and made it a remarkable experience for me.

Thank you, Romania.

honest confessions of a jaded christian

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.