Crying in the Schoolhouse. | Part 2 of Putting Doubt to Death.

I broke down this morning. Not the ugly cry, but tears none-the-less. On that blue carpet, standing next to that podium with the February calendar full of hearts and numbers and report card dates, outside my son’s Kindergarten class, talking to his teacher.

Sometimes the tears just come. I can’t stop them and I don’t even know where or why they show up.

Well, maybe I do. They come from doubt. My own doubt as a mother and a wife and a daughter to the One and only King of Kings.

I’m supposed to be able to do this. I’m supposed to be a good wife and a good mother and a good daughter.

But a lot of days I’m not. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I doubt my abilities. I doubt my inabilites. I just doubt.

I fear I’m going to mess something or someone up. Maybe I already have. I am. Today.

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This morning when my son wanted me to see something outside and I didn’t get there fast enough and then he slammed the door and went in the corner and wouldn’t speak to me. Sulled up like a turtle tucked in its shell. Hiding. Not speaking to me.

And I got mad. And I grabbed his arms and asked him “What is wrong with you? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? SPEAK TO ME!” Nothing. I got nothing.

Then we went to school and he was fine. And I was not. So I cried right there in the door and I’m crying now.

His teacher was encouraging. She told me I was going to be ok. He was going to be ok. It was phase and there would be 25 more. I had to stand my ground and not be disrespected. True. I’m going to try something different next time. And there will be a next time. There will probably even be another morning of tears in the schoolhouse hall. There has been before. There will be again.

And next year as I try to maneuver this homeschool thing and I’m doubting myself and others are doubting me, I will cry some more.

But I’m doing the best. I. can. with what I know I’ve been called to do. That’s one thing I don’t doubt. Won’t let myself doubt.

I’ll dig in deeper to the Word and suck every bit of doubt-destroying TRUTH I can out of that Good book.

I’ll pray until my knees hurt and then pray some more.

I’ll seek encouragement from those who will give it to me and try my best to stay away from those that won’t.

That’s all I know to do. That’s all this simple-minded, weak in spirit, needy soul can do.

In chewing the fat of doubt this week, I’ve come to realize just how much doubt I’ve been shoveling recently and how many dump truck loads I’ve deposited throughout my life. How I would love to have that back. And in my drive right now. We are a muddy mess on this farm.

In many ways, we are a muddy mess. 

I used to doubt my abilities as a speaker when I had to get in front of a hundred people and talk about the innards of a horse or a cow and how they digested food. The more appropriate and professional description would be “equine or bovine nutrition”…but I was talking about the innards of the animal.

I was fine talking, but the fear, the doubt would settle at the end when it was time for questions. What a dread that would bring.

I’m perfectly fine telling you what I need to tell you based on a presentation I have put together and practiced (usually not enough, but enough to get by…always just getting by.)

But get to the end of my talk and open the floor to questions…unscripted questions to which I don’t have an answer key … and you have entered my area of complete doubt. And the sweat would flow. Literally. Not pretty.

If you need to ask me something, send me an email or at least leave plenty of information about what you are wanting in a voicemail. I want to be prepared with the correct answer.

I do not want to be left to walk the plank and take the plunge into the shark infested waters because I said the wrong thing, or worse yet, had no answer.

I’ve always admitted I don’t know a lot about anything, just a little about a lot. And I’ve always been better at getting my thoughts out via pen, than through these flapping jaws, as my friend says.

The words would from time to time get all jumbled up in front of a crowd. I’d forget words I’ve known since kindergarten and then college level words would come to mind, but I wasn’t sure I was using them in the right context. It was a dilemma for a girl like me.

I would doubt I could make it through the meeting without doing something dumb like falling or tripping…up the stairs (been known to happen.)

Doubt I could eat supper before my talk and not go into a major burp fest in the middle of my talk  (been known to happen.)

Doubt my projector would work and I’d be forced to talk for 30 minutes without my slides (been known to happen.)

So, in many instances, maybe we are tempted to doubt so much because we’ve let ourselves down before. Or others have let us down. Been known to happen. To. us. all.

That’s the crazy thing about doubt. We tend to think we are the “only ones.” We see ourselves as an island. And sometimes we are. But most of the time, we are just one fish in a great big pond with lots of other fish swimming in circles. Fighting the same battles. The same doubts.

Doubt is really suffocating, is it not?

Under the weight of unbelief, we can’t see, hear or feel truth.

A life filled with doubt, is a life void of truth.

We are blind to what is right in front of our eyes. We are deaf to what is in ear shot. We are numb to what is fully within reach.

Sometimes it’s easier to live in doubt than to strive to understand and grasp truth. 

It’s easier to say “I can’t.” “You can’t.” “He can’t.”

That’s such a cop out. Yes, I said that’s a cop out. I’ve said all of those before, too. And if I haven’t said them in a given situation, I’ve thought them.

Another of my farmer man’s one-liners is “Can’t never could.”

That’s simple enough. Even this dumb, doubting blonde can understand that one.

If I don’t think I can and I never try…I never will.

If I don’t believe my God can do what I need Him to do or what He says He will and can do…why should He? If it happens, He’s not going to get the glory for it anyway. I’ll just say that was coincidence or luck.

I don’t believe in coincidence or luck. I believe in God. You can’t honestly believe in both. Luck and God don’t gee and haw. There’s a mule term for you from a professional mule lip blower.

They don’t go together.

In Him is all things.

In Him is my security. My worth. Isn’t that what this is really all about? Realizing our WORTH?

I think so. And I’m going to hash that out a bit next time.

For now, if you find yourself in anything I’ve said today about doubt, remember we are all in this together.

I doubt I’m alone. And I KNOW you are not alone.

Take heart. Take a deep breath. Or ten. They always say take ten deep breaths, don’t “they?”  Who are “they” anyway? Though, it does to seem help, some. 😉

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Trust in the One who gives LIFE and the only ONE who can take your doubt away.

And MORE than that…He can turn our doubt into double blessings. By trusting Jesus with our doubts and remembering who we are IN HIM, we can live fully. right. where. we. are.

His GRACE will always be JUST ENOUGH to cover our own insecurities and our doubts and temptations.

If we can just learn to TRUST. And put some doubt to death.

Trusting the Truth leaves no room for Doubt.

Go in Grace today. Cry a river if you need to. No judging here. Just a tissue and a shoulder. 😉

Graciously,
Meredith

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8 thoughts on “Crying in the Schoolhouse. | Part 2 of Putting Doubt to Death.

  1. Pingback: Saturday Sundries. » Meredith Bernard Photography

  2. Pingback: Saturday Sundries. | For His Glory

  3. “And I’ve always been better at getting my thoughts out via pen, than through these flapping jaws…” Oh, can I relate! But even with the pen I’m filled with doubt. I second- (third-, fourth-…) guess everything. And it all goes back to ME. I’m worried about ME. What will people think of ME? Did that sound dumb…will they think I’m dumb? What I need to constantly keep before me is GOD. I need to do everything I do for His glory alone. But, obviously…I have a lot to learn! Thanks, Meredith!

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