I’ve been tired, awkward and lost. This is my one stronghold.

Floundering is defined as: “to experience great difficulties or be completely unable to decide what to do or say next; to move awkwardly or to be in an awkward or difficult situation (Cambridge Dictionary).” 

Joy Clarkson (she talks on all things art and theology) used that term to describe what we do when we’re in the waiting spaces: We don’t just wait. We struggle to hold on to anything that will give us direction or hope. 

I’ve been floundering. Trying to hold onto something that will give me footing. I feel confused, tired, and unmotivated.

In this season where I am losing the ground, I stand on, I’m realizing I need to grow roots deeper down than where I have been. I have been rooted in this country, in my family, in my grades, and in my accomplishments. 

Yet I’m called to be rooted in Christ. 

So whenever that rejection email comes, and the feelings of “I knew it wasn’t going to happen anyway” and “you’re not that special” wash over me, and I deny the feelings of excitement and ambition I had, I have the opportunity to ask the Lord to not let this make me cold and hard inside. 

Father, please, root me in You, in your word, in your truth. Help me to stand firmly on you, for you are my Rock and my Refuge. You are my firm Foundation. 

My experiences in Turkey have been a blessing, but ultimately that’s not who I am. 

My connection to America looms ahead of me, enveloping me, and it’s scary. It doesn’t have to be. Because that’s not who I am either. 

I’ve received letters of admission and rejection from universities and programs. These labels do not define me – they cannot. 

I cannot be defined by a number on a page, a statistic pointing to some idea of academic effort or capability. 

I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works, Father, and I know them very well (Psalm 139). 

The only thing I can bet on in life is that God will be my unshakable Cornerstone, my Good Shepherd, my Vine, my Good Good Father. He’s gone before me in the past; He is doing so now. He is the Maker of the universe, the one who spoke and created billions of swirling stars, and formed man from dust. His breath holds Life; his hands uphold all of history. His sacrifice on the cross bearing divine wrath in my place assures me of eternal peace with Him. 

My circumstances will change. I will change. 

He hasn’t, isn’t, and won’t. 

That’s one heck of a thing to stand on.

2 thoughts on “I’ve been tired, awkward and lost. This is my one stronghold.”

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