Uncertainty In A Bottle

“I don’t know who you want me to be Lord.”

I get frightened when I think about myself. Who am I? Where am I in the journey? How much further? What will I end up doing with my life? I don’t have answers to any of these questions, and it seems like so many other people do.

Do you have random moments at night or in the middle of the afternoon when you just sob in the safety of your room? Because I do. Then I wipe my face and go to bed. Or maybe pray. It’s just too much once in a while. My brain goes fuzzy and I don’t know how to hold myself anymore. So I cry. Not the cute teardrops running down your face kind. Nope. The body-shaking, face-squeezing, breath-taking kind that makes it hard to swallow.

For as long as I can remember I have always been one of the last to bloom. I fight worry, but still it terrifies me that there is so little I really know.

In an interesting way though, all this fear and uncertainty makes me appreciate the things that I am sure of.

  • God loves me.
  • I have Jesus inside of me.
  • I have a home.
  • I have family.

And this isn’t even a God-promo post (there will be time for those). I’m just being real with you.

Even when I’m going through periods of drifting and distraction – times when my mind is telling me that there’s no point to anything at all – I remind myself of these things. I force myself to thank God for them. Remembering them grounds me.

Because without things like the sound of my father’s laughter and the constant renewing of my mind: I don’t know where I would be.

“Lord I don’t know who you want me to be. But in this moment right now, I am grateful that I’m okay and that you’re here with me.”