I never would have considered myself a skeptic. I was always the first to trust, shaping my heart with the words I believed in. But those days ended the morning Seventeen sat in her fold-up chair in a gymnasium and heard words that made her mutter yeah right, don’t make promises you can’t keep.
Thinking is an awfully good thing. And in our culture and our generation, questioning and challenging are the pitch we tune our words to. It is so good to live consciously and intentionally. But is it possible that we can take those things too far? Where we filter every word and phrase so carefully that we spend hours on a sentence, trying to decode its hidden meaning.
Sometimes, maybe, I need to stop moving and stop thinking and remember to be. And sometimes I have to give the people I love the benefit of the doubt that they actually know better than I do.
Maybe, sometimes, I clutter my life with my philosophy and logic and conversation and questions, and I forget that God promised the Kingdom to those with faith like a child. Faith that asks questions to learn, not to criticize, and trusts that He gives the best gifts and tells the most beautiful stories.
Maybe I’m wearing myself out with all the asking. And maybe I’m trying too hard to figure it out, when what I need is a walk outside instead of frowning at a computer screen. And maybe watching The Office and getting breakfast with Codie and holding his hand and driving with the windows down and playing the piano for hours are going to be my Life Savers instead of my Life Distractors. The things that give me creativity and groundedness, rather than taking away from an eternally-ambiguous Life Goal.
And maybe the fact that I’m a battery on recharge with not much to get on my soapbox about these days is a blessing instead of a curse. Maybe I need this time to simply be, before I can lunge back into the throes of the questions with a vengeance unlike anything I’ve ever done before.
And maybe we’re not always meant to be growing. Maybe it’s okay to rest sometimes.