Sleepless in Nashville

I'm going to be totally honest (even though most of y'all already know this): I'm struggling. To a degree that I have never experienced before. I have stopped comforting myself with the thought that "it can't get any worse," because every time I think that, it gets worse. In short, I feel like the threads of my life are fraying. I am trying to sort out deep, old issues and current dysfunction. The person that I went to for help, well, she let me down and left me hanging. I am questioning my choice of college, and whether or not I should stay here in this place that I've made my home.

And currently, I find myself surrounded by friends that are so incredibly joyful. And I love that. I need that right now. But it is so hard. Two of my best friends started dating (which I have been waiting for for a year now) and there is a joy that resonates from the pair of them. Another sweet friend is most likely going to be engaged in the near future, and the thought of it makes me smile because they are so perfect for each other. And another handful of my friends are about to graduate, and I can see the excitement, fear, and joy in them at the thought of moving on to the next adventure. All these things make me genuinely excited and happy for them.

And yet, my own fears and doubts creep in. Maybe it's because my heart is already so heavy anyway. I don't know. But when the day is over and everything goes still, that joy disappears and I am not okay. I am forced to face my fears that I'm not worth loving, that I am forgettable and unwanted. I'm afraid because the people that I love seem to be moving on to bigger and better things in life, and I find myself stagnant, nursing wounds that I cannot even see. I'm afraid of being left behind and forgotten.

This train of thought got me thinking about the apostles, and how they felt when Jesus died. Jesus was a friend, someone that they loved dearly. And he was gone. They had given up their lives to follow him, and he left them. I can only imagine the fears and doubts that crept into their hearts during those three days. Especially Peter.

He betrayed Jesus, he denied him three times. He turned his back on his friend when Jesus needed him the most. And then Jesus was gone. I'm sure Peter felt sorrow, grief, guilt, and anger at himself. I'm certain that he felt abandoned, unworthy and useless. Even after Jesus came back, even after Peter spoke with Jesus again, Peter was still afraid that he had done the unforgivable, still worried that he had messed up too bad to ever be loved again.

But Jesus knew. "Simon son of John, do you love me?...Then feed my sheep."

"Follow me." Jesus said.

I imagine Peter felt a lot like I'm feeling now. Standing before the immovable. Being brought to your knees before the unbearable. And Jesus' answer is the same to me as it was to Peter. "Follow me."

I love that sweet reminder. The reminder that yes, I have all of these fears, but Jesus sees right through them. He sees to the heart of the issue. Because at the heart of all those issues, at the heart of all the crap that I'm attempting to sort through, lies a bigger problem.

At the heart of Peter's problem was not his betrayal, but his lack of faith. He doubted that Jesus still loved him, that he had been forgiven, that he was worth dying for. At the heart of my struggle are not these worldly events that seem so big, so uncontrollable. At the heart of my struggle is a lack of faith. I doubt that this is all for the best, and that there is something more beautiful than I can possibly imagine waiting for me on the other side.

But God is good. And he is in control. "For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future.'" (Jeremiah 29:11)

I'm struggling now. Life is hard now. But the answer to all my questions, all my fears, all my doubts; the answer to my struggle, is not really an answer at all. It's an invitation.



"Follow me."



Arise, my love, and come with me.