faith unfaded

I give with my whole heart. I stay when others walk away. I give the benefit of the doubt even when the flags turn the air into a sea of red.

I believe in the inherent goodness of people.

The flaw isn’t naivety. It’s assuming most people are like me—faulty steps but a pure heart.

I tend to see people as their third-grade selves—the child within—before life hardened them. I discovered that gift during my years in homeless ministry. It’s a gift that helps me see people as God designed them, which is why I often see more potential than danger on the streets.

But that same gift sometimes leaves me ensnared.

Like a fishing line snagged on an unseen stump beneath the water.

I tug. I strain. I wait. Sometimes it’s patience. Sometimes it’s stubbornness. I refuse to let go even when it becomes obvious the fight is futile.

So the Lord does what I won’t.

He cuts the line.

I used to stare at the dangling string and cry. “Why, Lord? I could’ve gotten it loose.”

“My child, that’s no longer for you.” He’d dry my eyes and mend my rod. He still does, only now I respond with gratitude, not sorrow.

I still leave a tangled line in longer than I should sometimes. My heart doesn’t shut off even when my mind knows it should.

But some things are just for a season. And some were never meant for me at all.

And when God closes one door… don’t get the WD-40 and try to open it back up yourself!