It’s incredible, really, how easy it is to question yourself, to question your abilities, your decisions, your risk-taking. I was reminded of this the moment I approved my poetry book for publishing. It was like I was back in college and had just finished working on a research paper that was over 10,000 words long. I’d really given my time, energy, and heart to the project. I focused. I proofread. I proofread again, and again, and again. Finally, the edits had to stop. I decided it was time to move forward because there was nothing more I could find that I wanted to change. I felt it was as good as it was going to get. My eyes knew the pages by heart. And vice versa, my pages knew my heart.

And then there it was, I clicked submit, and the doubt crept in. Did I even submit the right file? Ok, now back to current time. Way out of college and sitting in my living room in Kansas. Did I approve the right book, the most updated version? Oh my gosh, what if I submitted the draft. What if people buy my book and receive the DRAFT?! I genuinely had those thoughts. What if, what if, what if I messed up? Even though I spent months making sure I would not. Why is it so easy to doubt? Why can’t I just TRUST that I cared as much when I submitted that book as I do right now, that I would not make that kind of mistake because I made sure that my process was slow and steady and careful?

This question is lingering with me. What is the root of this lack of trust? To have a lack of trust, I must have broken some sort of promise to myself at some point prior to now. I must have trusted, failed to follow through, and broken my own heart. Otherwise, I would feel no pit in the bottom of my stomach that I might have done something wrong with absolutely no evidence that this is true. So what really did go wrong? Where did my trust get lost?

And here’s what I’m finding, as I sit here and honestly reflect on my soul. My trust got lost in so many places, at so many different times throughout my life. How many times did I promise, deep down in my soul, that I would not compare my personality to others, that I would not conform to those around me to be more “liked”, that I would not automatically consider myself lesser than? How many times have I promised myself that I would love the body God gave me, only to seconds later look in the mirror, suck in my stomach, and immediately feel sick because I don’t like what I see? How many times have I promised myself that I would be content where I am, only to arrive right back to the “I wish I was somewhere else/doing something else” mindset two days later? This is me. This is not God. This is not of God.

Imagine if your best friend broke his or her promises to you over and over and over again. Some of us don’t have to imagine this situation because we’ve experienced the reality of it. It hurts. It hurts so badly, and the pain is inflicted from someone on the outside of you. You can shout, get angry, and work out your issues openly with a friend. You can navigate through the pain out loud. So when the betrayal comes from yourself, from within, it only makes sense that the pain would stick with us even longer, oftentimes without us even knowing it. I feel like it’s safe to say that the vast majority of human beings don’t lay in bed yelling at themselves about breaking a promise they made to themselves (If you do this, more power to you…I think?). We walk around feeling this heaviness, this burden of frustration and doubt and guilt and hopelessness because we fail to protect our own promises to ourselves, and we keep it all boiled up, simmering inside of us. This burden is not meant for us.

So while I’m practicing being trustworthy to my own self, I’m also practicing being forgiving and merciful because I know that promises will inevitably be broken. I will probably look in the mirror unsatisfied more times than one; I will likely forget that I’m supposed to be content with where the Lord has me, but I can practice forgiving. And this is one of the most challenging things to do, to forgive yourself of offenses committed against yourself. We tend to hold trust and forgiveness in such high regard when it comes to our relationships with other people, for good reason. And for just as good of a reason, for the sake of rest, and freedom, and joy, let’s practice forgiving ourselves and trusting. . .and forgiving again if necessary.

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