You know the feeling.
You do something.
It feels right.
It feels good.
Then this little question mark brews in your heart and within a matter of moments you’re wondering, “Oh my gosh. Did I just really mess this thing up?”
I am an over thinker. Unfortunately, not in an intelligent, philosophical way (autocorrect had to fix both of those big word’s spellings for me, which I think proves what I’m saying is true.) No no, more like a “girl, get over yourself and turn the sensitivity down a notch” way.
Like the Sara Groves lyrics below, I am a second guess girl.
Is it time for a speech or for silence,
Are you calling for peace or defiance?
Is this darkening counsel or wisdom,
Are we all perpetrators or victims?
Are we companions of Job or prophets of God,
Are we not of this world or just painfully odd?
Is it time for free grace or tough love,
Or a little of all the above?
It’s a hard world for a second guess girl.
(Lyrics from the song Second Guess Girl by Sara Groves)
So what is the remedy for these wrestling matches of the heart?
I’m not at all pretending to have this figured out, but for me, the answer feels two-fold.
Part of it is surrendering that there will always be more unanswered questions than answers. And that’s ok.
Faith requires times of trust, or by its definition it would be something else. As a human trying to do the best I can in this world, I have to expect for myself there will be times I wonder if I’ve acted in wisdom or just done something really stupid. Part of life is learning to exist peacefully with ourselves when we’re not 100% sure of ourselves, and something beautiful happens when we whisper, “You know what? I don’t know, and I might never know, so I’m just going to let this go.”
And secondly, I’m brought back to that simple truth of who I am.
My focus doesn’t need to be on my uncertainty–did I do what God wanted? Did I offend her by the way I worded that? Did I miss a great opportunity by staying silent? My focus instead can be on the God who is loving me through all of my moments–you know, the God who knew me and planned for me long before I stepped foot on this earth. I am certain that I am loved. I am certain that just as God adores his son Jesus, I have been adopted into the family of God and by his grace and mercy alone, I am his child, too. I am not God and I’m not attaining to become a god; I’m just your average second guess girl who loves and is loved by God. And let’s be honest. This is all kinds of awesome.
When I think of baby Jesus in the manger and the great love that sent him to earth, I’m reminded that in part, it was love for me that brought Jesus here. I am a daughter of God, adopted and grafted into a family tree that I rejoice to be a permanent part of.
Yes, it was love that put Jesus in the womb, in the manger, and on the cross, so that today and every day we could lay our insecurities, uncertainties, remorse over sinful tendencies, and all our various stinky baggage aside and admit that our crap, quite frankly, doesn’t stack up to much in comparison to the cold, hard truth of Whose we are, because of Christ. Faith and trust are required to believe this, yes, and even more so to loosen our grip on the things that don’t matter much. But in the words of the wonderfully wise Brennan Manning, “Trust is our gift back to God.”
May trust be our gift to God this Christmas, and merry, merry Christmas, from me and mine to you and yours.