My sister reminds me sometimes that the fulfillment of our desire to adopt does not rest on the birthmoms or lawyers or social workers. It feels like it, but it doesn’t. And, of course, what she’s telling me is that I can have the supreme confidence of trusting that my future is in the hands of a good God. Sometimes that isn’t comforting.
Sometimes I feel the niggling, cold, deathlike grip of Doubt. It’s a terrible guest to have lodge in my heart. It demands everything – all my time and energy. It influences all of my thoughts and feelings and prevents me from even wanting to be faithful. But, worst of all, it seems so powerful in my fight against it. It whispers that I would be happy if I would just surrender, lie down and give up. Just one bite. You will not surely die.
Josh told me last night that Doubt only declares. It doesn’t provide answers. It doesn’t even wait for answers. It doesn’t comfort. It doesn’t provide happiness or joy or fulfillment. It is a worm that feeds on faith.
I’m trying to fight for my faith, trying to shield it from the arrows of Doubt. To believe that God is who He says He is and that He will do what He has promised. If He said it then it’s true.
And, right now, the reward I seek is more faith – enough to keep me from giving in and losing this battle. After all, what does Doubt promise me? Nothing but darkness. Faith promises joy that comes in the morning.
In the midst of this battle I am increasingly grateful for worship – the one place where I feel myself to be what I truly am: a believer. I read Psalm 84 and I know exactly what he’s talking about, living from Sunday to Sunday, longing to be in God’s house, with God’s people.
It is in worship that the clouds dissipate and light shines clearly. Surely God has proved Himself to me over and over. I have every reason in the world to believe Him and that by believing I am not whistling in the dark. That’s good because whistling in the dark never brings light – only God can do that.