“Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, come with me. 

See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone.

Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land. 

The fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.

Arise, come, my darling;  my beautiful one, come with me.”

     -Songs of Solomon 2:10-13

i gave my life to the Lord nearly 8 years ago. i can remember the clear conviction in my heart the evening i first felt the intense amount of love He had for me. i sat in my room and cried. it felt both scary and wonderful. this was a journey i wasn’t sure if i wanted to take. but i jumped into a lake nearly 1 week later and dunked my head in the water, around people who loved me, and gave myself back to the one who set me free.
for a time, i felt amazing. i had this overwhelming desire to know everything about this new being in my life, i was desperate to know the truth, the real Him, the Him i didn’t know growing up. i’d lean into books, the Bible, and friendships. i learned. i loved. i laughed. i cried. and i struggled.

i struggled within myself as i’d hear things being said, or saw things being done, that didn’t match up to things i was reading, and convictions my spirit was anchoring deep in my belly. 

i started to pull away, not solely from the people, but from God. i started debating the scripture; finding holes, contradictions, and hypocrisy. 
i sat in quiet moments, my spirit screaming out, my soul longing for clarity, for understanding and wisdom to guide me. i was at an impasse. 
i’ve sat here for months now. moving back and forth. ready to walk away, to turn my back on something i know exists. 

a friend of mine told me the other day that i’m blaming God for all of [some] Christian behaviors. and she’d be right. i am. He chose us to represent him to the nations and yet we’re here representing him 7 hundred different ways. 
he commands us to get along. to love one another and yet we argue about what it means to love one another. He commands us to go 2 miles when we’re asked to go one, and yet we argue about which situations that is meant for. He tells us to care for the widows and the orphans and yet we argue about who is really responsible for this. 
i’m exhausted from trying to understand Him. i’m exhausted from feeling like nothing i think or feel matters. i’m exhausted from feeling like i’m constantly failing Him. that i’m not representing him right. i’m exhausted trying to explain my revelations to deaf ears and yet pleading for the ability to help soften the hearts of those whose ears need to hear the revelations most. 
i’m exhausted from hearing i’ll never know enough. of being looked at like i know nothing. i’m exhausted of doing everything i can think of and yet nothing seems to work.

my heart can’t take anymore babies dying, people being violated, people being cast aside, people being sold, people being silent in the face of evil, people losing hope, people lying about who You are. my heart can’t take it. 

my faith never feels stronger, only weaker. the more i talk to [some] Christians the more i learn to doubt my faith. the more i see [some] Christians, the more i begin to hate God. and that sucks. that feels awful, and scary, and lonely, and empty and unfair.
but Lord, if you’re listening. if you’re really here, if you really care about me, about us, will you do something for me? give me a miracle. give me my faith back.

because without it, i’m lost.