faithless.

According to your faith be it unto you.

Matthew 9:29

I've been wondering lately, how much faith I actually have, how much I put into practice on a daily basis. I've been noticing my walks, literally and figuratively, and how dulled down by fear they are. Noticing how the lack of trust--in man, in self, in God--takes the shine out of life. 

I hold onto lists and numbers and ideas of how I think things (marriage, womanhood, friendship, motherhood) should be, with no clear idea of how these notions ended up in my head to begin with, and God strikes right through my pride down to the center of me. I try to stare Him down with my white-knuckled death grip on everything I feel life owes me, and a still, small voice inside asks me to let go. And I push back against it--NO. Arguing and rooting myself in stubbornness until I am utterly exhausted.

It's in these moments that my brain, I swear on purpose, forgets all the goodness I've experienced as the result of letting go. How, through a phone call, or an unexpected visitor, or by taking the wrong road on my way to wherever, I was guided into amazing, blessed situations! Led to incredible new people, or an area of the woods unexplored, or a quiet bookstore, just when my heart was screaming for all the crazy to stop. How many potential friends do I turn away from, how many needed things have been placed directly on my path, unseen by me, the woman just hoping to get through the day?

So little faith. So little trust. Such a dishonor to the sheer enormity of my spirit, the unfathomable, ancient knowing of my soul. I combat this distrust every day, every hour, knowing that I've been blessed with the gift of recognizing trouble when I see it, but also coming to new realizations. That shutting out and avoiding everyone, at times even avoiding my Creator, is not the answer. 

I was not created to be so diminished.