I found this post buried in my blog archives this week, and decided it needed a second chance. I originally wrote it two years ago, but I’ve rescued it, done some editing, and re-posted it here. Maybe 24-year-old me had something to say, after all.
I’m reminded of a song by Alexi Murdoch – a great artist who I discovered on a very gray day in March about two years ago. When I first listened to this song, I couldn’t decide whether the bare trees and pale sky had suddenly become more beautiful, or whether it was these words that made the day seem more alive.
And if I stumble, and if I stall,
And if I slip now, and if I should fall,
And if I can’t be all that I could be,
Will you, will you wait for me?
I’m remembering all of the mistakes I’ve made. I’m remembering the times that I pushed and contorted and re-wrote relationships in my head, trying too hard to make them work. I’m remembering the time when I betrayed my friends and wound up hurting a lot of people. I’m remembering the accidents, the mis-communications, and the hurtful words I’ve said.
I’ve spent so much time wrestling with uncertainty.
I’ve spent two years going through the motions of going to church and talking about Jesus and attending a Bible study, but I can’t seem to get over my pervasive doubt, born out of all the shattered expectations and messed up relationships and hypocritical Christians and suffering I’ve seen brought about by a God who promises to make everything work together for good for those who love him. I know it all in my head, but I no longer feel anything in my heart.
Will you wait for me while I make mistakes? Will you wait for me while I struggle to find meaningful relationships? Will you wait for me while I struggle to figure it out? Will you wait for me while I am uncertain?
Because I know that someday – granted I don’t die tomorrow – I will become more mature, more certain about what I believe, more sure of myself.
If I’ve learned anything at all over the past few years, it’s that honesty is never a wasted. Friendship is never a mistake, even if it’s only for a short time. Even when I find myself at the end of a relationship, wondering if the little bit of good in the beginning was worth the horribly painful mess at the end, it’s not for me to say whether I would have been better off alone.
Yesterday as I was thinking about all of these things, I heard a small voice in my head. “Do you trust me?”
Looking back, I see this tiny thread that’s connecting everything together. I see the situations that have fallen into place at just the right time. I’ve made mistakes, and learned from them.
After everything, I find myself saying “Yes, I trust you. But will you wait for me?”