There was a time when I believed that a single
verse encapsulated my entire Christian
experience:
“I do not understand what I do. For what I want
to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.” ~Romans 7:15
To this day, that verse continues to leave me
bewildered.It gave rise to countless questions, questions that eventually became so persistent and so
resistant to resolutions ,that I resigned myself to
calling them rhetorical.
Was I not Christian enough?
Had I somehow received a different salvation
from everyone else?
Was I forcing myself into Christianity rather than allowing it to transform me naturally? And if the Lord truly saw the earnest longing
within my heart, why did He remain silent?
These questions filled the pages of my journal,
Journey to Eternity, written during the early days
of my faith after I had accepted Christ. Looking
back now, I realize that although the years have
passed, many of those questions have never
been answered in the way I expected.
The same verse that seemed to define me then
still echoes through my life now.
What does the voice of God actually sound like?
I listened to testimonies of people who spoke of
profound encounters with the Holy Spirit. Some
accounts seemed questionable, yet I could not
dismiss the reality that God does move in
people’s lives. The Spirit does convict, comfort,
and transform.Still, I found myself wondering:
Is that inner prompting merely my conscience, or is it God? Is what I feel guilt, or is it conviction?
Why did others seem so certain while I remained
suspended in ambiguity?
My search for answers gradually became an
obsession.I undertook rigorous spiritual disciplines,convinced that somewhere within them I would finally encounter God.I attempted to read the entire Bible in two months, believing that if I immersed myself deeply enough in Scripture, the answers would emerge. I began dressing more conservatively, wearing long skirts and covering my head, quietly entertaining the possibility that perhaps God listened more attentively to those
who appeared outwardly devout.I became meticulous about my speech. I monitored my habits. I remained unwavering in devotionals and prayer. I scrutinized every aspect of my conduct, wondering whether some hidden flaw was creating a barrier between God and me.
Yet despite all my efforts, I found myself
returning repeatedly to another verse:
“For I do not do the good I want to do, but the
evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.”
Romans 7:19
The cycle seemed endless.The harder I tried, the more acutely aware I became of my own inadequacy.And so my heart grew restless.
Restless in the way Augustine described when
he wrote that our hearts are restless until they
rest in God. Yet even then, because I was remarkably skilled at missing the point, I assumed the restlessness itself was the problem.I spent years attempting to silence it.Only later did I realize that the restlessness was not evidence of God’s absence. It was evidence of my longing for Him.
In the course of what I jokingly call my spiritual
due diligence, I encountered a verse that quietly
dismantled the framework upon which I had built
my faith:
“For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and
acknowledgment of God rather than burnt
offerings.” — Hosea 6:6
For the first time, I saw what had been happening all along.I had mistaken performance for devotion.
I was checking boxes,completing tasks,and maintaining appearances.
My flesh remains weak. I still wrestle with the
very things I wish I could leave behind. I still
understand Paul’s frustration. I still find portions
of my story within Romans 7.But now there is hope where there was once only confusion.I no longer feel compelled to audition for sainthood.I no longer believe that God is waiting for a flawless performance before He draws near.Instead, I cling to a truth that has become
precious to me:
“But where sin increased, grace increased all the
more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so
also grace might reign through righteousness to
bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”
— Romans 5:20–21
This is the truth that steadies me.
Not that I have mastered the Christian life.
Not that all my questions have been answered.
Not that I now hear God’s voice with perfect
clarity, but that His grace exceeds my failures.
That His mercy outlasts my inconsistencies.
That His love is not contingent upon my
performance.
Today, my desire is simpler than it once was.
I want to seek God wholeheartedly not out of
fear, obligation, or a desire to prove myself worthy, but out of genuine love.I want my heart to be rightly inclined toward Him. Even though I may still walk through seasons of uncertainty, I hold firmly to this hope:
That the God I have spent so long searching for
has never been far away.
And in His perfect time, He will meet me exactly where I am.
~Laura🌸