Sometimes it feels like I’m yelling into an abyss, wondering if anyone hears me.

That’s not what’s happening, of course, but that’s what it feels like. In reality, I’m whispering half-thoughts and run-on sentences while questioning if I’ve lost the ability to discern the Lord’s voice. I’m keeping it all tucked away inside my mind, letting my doubts play on repeat.

And in all of that wondering and hiding and not talking about it, there’s a building awareness that A. I’m not the person I want to be, and B. I’m perpetuating the problem by tucking it away.

I get like this sometimes. I let fear or anxiety or stubbornness overwhelm me, and I hide away in whatever distraction I can justify — work, shows, friends, my husband.

Anything but God.

Because He’s not a distraction. He’s a let’s-talk-this-out-and-handle-it kind of a guy, and I don’t want to. And I’m a mule.

So here I am.

Side note — you know what I don’t love? How I know that my mom is going to read this and give me the same look she did when I was a little kid reading my books under the covers with a flashlight after curfew and got caught. I see you, Tracy. Your mom stare is still so strong.

I’m still a little kid reading way after curfew, even though I know that it’s going to make me crazy tired and mess up my whole week.

Do I know that God loves me and wants me to come to him with everything? Yes, yes I do. Do I want to do that right now? No, no I don’t.

Those verses about our hearts being wicked and our flesh crying out — it’s so real.

And yet.

He still loves me. He still forgives me. He’s patiently waiting for me to stop acting like I’m 10 years old and just come to Him.

Consider this me turning off my flashlight. Praise the Lord for a long-suffering Father.

Maggie Evans is a regular contributor to The Scroll. She also is special assistant to the editor for The Alabama Baptist/TAB Media. Maggie and her husband, Sam, are members of Iron City Church, Birmingham.


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