Don’t Let the Puddle Become a Sea

I asked my pastor the other day: Do I have to experience every article I write? I mean, do you experience the sermons you prepare? He just looked at me knowingly. Pretty much.

So the Sunday after I wrote When Emotions Feel Bigger Than the Situation, I woke up feeling an onslaught of, not despair, but doubt. I don’t consider myself a doubter. But there I was.

And the thoughts were circling wildly. What was I doing writing a blog? Why did I think God wanted me to even do this? What a crazy idea.

I’ve been writing faithfully for six months, usually having to pare down my articles so they only have one topic instead of three. I have new ideas all the time. People have told me that some of my articles have been helpful. None of that mattered.

I thought back to the story of Elijah. How did he get to the broom tree?

Elijah had seen God do astonishing things. He had announced a drought to King Ahab. Ravens fed him. A widow’s flour and oil never ran out. Her son was raised from the dead. Fire fell from heaven. Rain finally came. Then Elijah outran Ahab’s chariot for more than a half marathon in supernatural strength.

And then Jezebel sent one message.
She sent this prophet of prophets a death threat.

Did Elijah stand on his faith and remember all that God had done through him?

Nope. Fear overtook him and he ran. He left the country.
Then he left his servant behind and walked into the wilderness alone.

He finally sat down under a broom tree and asked God to take him.
I’m no better than anyone else, he decided, I might as well die. (1 Kings 17-19).

Sea of Despair

I’ve gotten fearful, tired, and isolated before. I’ve thrown myself into the Sea of Despair. But this day, with my feet in the Puddle of Doubt, I knew I didn’t want to go back into the sea.

The first thing I did was name it.

Hello doubt.
Not despair.
Not depression.
Thick doubt.

But still just a puddle.
I wanted to catch it while it was still small.

Today my puddle happened to be doubt. Tomorrow yours might be fear, anger, grief, shame, or something else entirely. The point isn’t which puddle you’re standing in. It’s noticing it before it becomes a sea.

One thing I knew: if I kept this feeling a secret, it would grow.

I grabbed some of my church friends and asked for prayer.
I acknowledged where I was, not letting pride get in the way.
I prayed. Not a big prayer. Just an honest cry for help.

Then I rested.

I journaled and thought honestly about what my expectations were for a fledgling project and what God had asked me to do.

He had called me to start a blog and write. I was being faithful.
He is responsible for the rest.

I realized something very important.

Unauthorized Cargo

I was carrying a burden He did not assign.

Somewhere along the way, I began running in my own strength, trying to accomplish what only God could do.

There was something fueling the doubt.

I had begun carrying the burden of making it succeed.
I had prayed about the writing. What I hadn’t done was continue bringing my hopes and expectations back to God.
Without realizing it, I’d begun carrying them myself.

So I gave the burden back to Him.

Whether anyone reads.
Whether anyone changes.
Whether Tangled Not Broken grows.

My calling is to write faithfully.
The results belong to Him.

Faithfulness was my assignment. Outcomes never were.

And I began to feel better.

I wasn’t doubting because I lacked faith. I was doubting because I had quietly picked up a burden God never asked me to carry.

The burden was pushing me toward the sea, but His presence was there to draw me back to solid ground.

Drowning is Optional

Elijah, however, kept running until his puddle became a sea.

But the story doesn’t end there.

God saw his exhaustion. He sent an angel to feed him, let him rest, and then feed him again.

Then a gentle question: “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

Only after caring for Elijah’s exhausted body does God speak in the gentle whisper and send him on to his next assignment.

God didn’t meet Elijah with a lecture.
He didn’t disqualify him.

He met him with care.
And He met me the same way.

Sometimes all we have is,
“Lord…help me. I’m in over my head.”

That prayer is enough to begin turning back toward shore.

When we do, we discover He has been near all along.

He doesn’t ask us to save ourselves. He asks us to turn toward Him.

A gentle note: This article is about ordinary seasons of doubt, not severe depression. If your “sea of despair” has lasted for weeks or months, or keeps returning in cycles that are becoming harder to navigate, please talk with your doctor or a mental health professional. There may be effective treatments that can help. And if you’re having thoughts of harming yourself, call or text 988 (U.S. and Canada) or seek emergency help right away. You don’t have to face that alone. Please don’t.