There’s this unexpressible feeling in the pit of my stomach right now. It’s the kind that sucks all the confidence out of you, takes all your energy and motivation. Everything that was once certain has fallen into a pile of shards, uncertainty beyond repair. It’s embarrassing because it’s always one small thing that sets off a chain reaction of discouragement. One small thing. It makes a mess of my mind and my thoughts. It happens to everyone: where one thing doesn’t go your way and your mind eventually drifts to every other imperfect thing in life. It makes you think about your discontentment with work, or your inability to do well in school, or your seemingly uncaring friends. All of it comes crashing down on you like a pile of bricks. This is me, now.
Yet, I’m thankful for moments like this. It’s a reminder. A reminder that I can’t do anything on my own. My strength is never enough, and no matter how hard I try, my efforts will never win people over. It’s a reminder that I’m human. I can’t sustain myself. Just as food and water are reminders that I’m dependent on things outside myself, so are moments like this. So I’m thankful.
It’s been a while since I’ve felt like this. Helpless. Stuck. Yet it makes me absolutely aware of my need for the Lord, my need for the Gospel. It puts me in my rightful setting as a man in need. I’m compelled to pray and to die to self–and I don’t just say that to be cliche, but it’s a very real dying to my own fleshly desires. It takes all of me to die to self–all my strength and self-control–but I guess that’s expected.
There’s only one thing I’m certain of in this moment: that there is an awesome God who desires my good (Rom. 8:28). If I’m certain about that, then I know I’ll be better for this later. If this is for my good, then I look forward to the day that I see the fruit of this. Until then, I pray for joy and peace.