{day 6} learning how to trust the Storyteller

 i sat at the table a few nights ago, listening to ladies who have become life-givers to my own story. a friend of mine once said that something healing happens when you hear "really? me too." and for me, this has been true with this group. their willingness, their vulnerability, brings me healing {and words} every. single. time. and this night was no different. we heard the question, "what reasons have you built to not trust God?"

immediately, my defenses kicked in and i shut down. i knew why, but i didn't want to admit it.

i mean, how do you admit you struggle with one of the biggest elements of your faith? 

if you're anything like me, you get quiet. you say nothing. you bite your lip to fight from tears and run to your car at the end of the night because how did they know? how did they say the exact thing i feel? 

i've mentioned before my tendency to detach - and this is no different. when it comes to trust, i compartmentalize. this elora? the one with a full-time job and a position on the story team at church and an awesome husband? she trusts. she knows He will provide.

but THIS one? the one who clutches the worn and tattered doll and fights the rage and can scream until her head feels as though it will explode? ask her if she trusts His goodness and she'll grimace. she loves Him. and she's been known to act on things He's told her. but deep down, she questions. often, she finds herself creeping up to His throne quietly asking, "do You really love me? do You really see me? all of me?"

and He always swoops her up into His lap and whispers in her ear secrets meant only for her heart.

but she always feels as though the other shoe is about to fall. 

sometimes, these two collide. it happens on days when i've pushed things deep - not allowing Him to take full control. a comment will be made or a a memory will appear and suddenly my story feels too overwhelming to hold by myself. i'd rather fall into another narrative - one with flowers and pretty bows and porcelain dolls.

i never struggled with this more than this past week. i've fought for words for the storm happening in my heart, but there's none. i've reached for my Bible only to hesitate at the last second, fearing the Truth that will penetrate my darkness. and i find myself shuffling my feet and peeking around the corner, looking for my Father's gaze.

because i know in order to embrace this story He's given me, i first need to trust the Author.

 

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Posted on October 6, 2011 and filed under finding{and telling}your story.