Choosing Faith

The past few weeks have been such a blur.  Though there have been so many blessings, they are also the perfect example of best laid plans gone bad.  Really bad.

We have been so blessed, but truly, it has felt as though everything I have planned, worked on, or otherwise touched has broken or gone terribly wrong.

I’m not going to write it all out.  But suffice it to say that I have been more and more consumed by guilt, frustration, doubt, and fear.  Just in the moment I would feel a breakthrough, it was as though a giant hand reached down and swatted me back.  Hard.  It was as though I were meant to fail, no matter how hard I tried.

All of those feelings gave way to worthlessness and fear.  I truly didn’t even feel like myself, let alone a person anymore.  I’ve been so tired and so sad.

All of that is only compounded by the fact that my problems, in the grand scheme, are truly so small.  I have an event coming up on Saturday where women who have problems of such a massive scale are discussed that I felt so stupid for feeling so down about my own.

Fear and faith cannot coexist.

Neither can love and self-loathing.

I know this.  But everything has played in my mind so fiercely, that I gave in to it.

Things had reached a point in one area of my life that I truly could not see any remote possibility of hope.  There truly was no way it could work out.  Total, exhausting failure was the only possibility.

But then, a total surprise.  One that I could never have seen.

I am a daughter of God.  And even in my chaotic loss of myself, He showed me He was there.

Faith is believing in something you cannot see.

But faith isn’t something you feel.  It’s something you choose.  And I’ve forgotten to choose it the past few weeks.

Last night, I was thinking about two of the women who are going to be featured at Yoga for Congo this Saturday.  They’ve been through worse things than even I, with my terribly overactive imagination, can imagine.  Yet I have a picture of them, friends, smiling.  Truly happy.

They are choosing faith.  In a country where they have lost everything and so much has been taken from them.  In a life where they cannot possibly imagine tomorrow.  (I truly hope you will come hear about them on Saturday.  They are incredible.  They have changed me.  Please, join me!)

They choose faith.

So do I.  I just pray that I will remember these past few weeks and not allow myself to get lost again.  I will choose faith.  I will choose to have hope, even when I cannot see it.

This morning, my funny little three-year-old came down, her face still stained with chocolate from shakes last night, in only her undies and a shawl her Grandma had made long ago, just as happy as I’ve ever seen her.

When I asked her how she was doing, she shouted for joy, “Yay!!  It’s a day!”

No other reason.  Just because it’s a new day.  :)

I want to be like her…just happy that it’s a day. :)

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