Time is indeed a steady healer, cautiously pointing out that my greatest spiritual defect may well be perfectionism. Having grown up a Christian, I absorbed unspoken messages that spiritual strength meant unwavering certainty and unshakable faith. This foundation became a significant problem when my certainty wavered and my faith shook. How could I be a Christian if I questioned its validity? How would I remain faith-full when the very ground I stood on felt as though it were crumbling? Everything felt unsure. The great hymn of my faith was failing: Christ was no solid rock; I found myself sinking quickly in the sand.
I’m writing at SheLoves this week … read about my journey to accept my imperfections there! (Bonus poem included!)
between worlds 