I Shouldn’t Feel Conflicted About God—How to Name, Frame, and Brave Complicated Emotions About Faith & God
Episode Notes
Do you ever feel distant from God? Do you struggle with conflicting emotions or unanswered questions that make it hard to feel God's presence in your life?
Today's episode brings the 🔥🔥🔥. I'm passionate about naming the false guilt and counterfeit messages that keep us from a vibrant relationship with God.
So often we try to shove complicated feelings aside or manipulate ourselves into feeling what we think we “should” feel in our faith. It doesn't work. The good news is that as with any relationship, when you name and frame what you're feeling honestly, you invest in a deeper, more authentic relationship with God. Here’s what we cover…
Here’s what we cover:
1. The problem with spiritual bypassing
2. 6 counterfeit messages we internalize about God
3. 5 framing questions to help you transform those messages
4. Specific examples of braving steps you can take in your spiritual life.
5. My personal experience with spiritual dissonance
Today's episode is an excerpt from Chapter 11 of I Shouldn't Feel This Way, available everywhere books are sold.
Resources:
- I Shouldn’t Feel This Way by Dr. Alison Cook
- Matthew 26:36-46
- Research on religion as a buffer for stressful experiences
- James 1:2
- Matthew 5
- Romans 5:3-5
- The Best of You by Dr. Alison Cook
- Philippians 2:12
- The Soul of Desire by Curt Thompson
Related Episode:
- Bonus Episode: Aundi Kolber & Dr. Alison on Writing & Launching Books
Thanks to our sponsors:
- Go to www.organifi.com/bestofyou today and use code BESTOFYOU for 20% off your order today.
- Head over to WildHealth.com/BESTOFYOU and use code BESTOFYOU at checkout for 20% off!
- Whether you're exploring distant lands or enjoying a staycation at home, Cozy Earth has your back. Visit cozyearth.com and unlock an exclusive 35% off with code BESTOFYOU.
- Get 40% off your first order of Sundays. Go to SundaysForDogs.com/BESTOFYOU or use code BESTOFYOU at checkout.
- Go to thrivemarket.com/bestofyou for 30% off your first order, plus a FREE $60 gift!
Music by Andy Luiten
Sound editing by Kelly Kramarik
© 2024 Alison Cook. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Please do not copy or share the contents of this webpage without permission from the author.
While Dr. Cook is a counselor, the content of this podcast and any of the products provided by Dr. Cook are not specific counseling advice nor are they a substitute for individual counseling. The content and products provided on this podcast are for informational purposes only.
Transcript
Hey everyone. And welcome back to this week's episode of The Best of You Podcast. What a week this has been. I Shouldn’t Feel This Way is out in the world. It's in your hands. I'm seeing so many of you post about it and review it on Amazon and write to me about it and DM me about it. And I'm so thrilled that you've got in your hands the very best I have to give, this framework, this naming. framing and braving framework that I believe will help you tackle the challenges that you face.
I'm so thrilled it's finally out. Talk about emotions. I've had so many emotions all week. It's a lot of work to write a book, but it's even harder in many ways to launch a book into the world, especially in this age where everything is done full-throttle, fast speed, you know, “more, more, more, more” type of energy.
You can listen to the bonus episode I dropped on Tuesday with my friend, Aundi Kolber. We talk a little bit about the process of writing and the process of publishing in this day and age. I really enjoyed that conversation with her. It's just two friends really talking about writing, and it was a really fun way for me to celebrate launch day on Tuesday.
This week also marks the second anniversary of The Best of You Podcast. So there's been a lot of emotions this week, a lot of feelings around this work that I've been doing these last several years of writing books and creating content and sharing resources with so many of you. I am so grateful. So grateful for you.
I am so grateful that you want to engage in this work of healing. It makes me feel less alone in the world to know that so many of you are interested not only in the work of healing mentally and emotionally, but also in the work of bringing your faith into that. Not only of inviting God into the work of healing, but also healing at times our own relationship with God.
And so in today's episode, I wanted to specifically apply the framework that I lay out in I Shouldn’t Feel This Way. It's a three step framework that applies to any challenge that you face, anything that kicks up a whole lot of emotions in you.
This “Name, Frame, Brave” framework can help you find your way through that. And I apply that framework to a lot of different topics in the book. I apply it to the thinking traps that keep us stuck. We need to name, frame, and brave the negative thinking and the thinking traps in our own minds.
I apply it to the numbing behaviors that so many of us struggle with. We have to name, frame, and brave those numbing behaviors in order to come out the other side in a healthier place. I apply it to feelings of comparison, to feelings of “less than”. Those are feelings that we also need to name, frame, and brave.
I apply the framework to toxicity in relationships. How do we name toxicity, frame it, and then brave a way out of toxic dynamics into a healthier place in our relationships. I apply it to communication and conflict in our healthy relationships.
We have to name hard emotions, even in our healthiest relationships, so that we can frame them and then brave a better path. And then in the very last chapter of the book, I apply the framework to the feelings that we have about God. It's one of the chapters that is closest to my heart.
And so in today's episode, I wanted to share an excerpt from this chapter with you. It's one of the things you guys ask me about the most. What do I do with the painful emotions I feel about God? Whether I feel distant from God, or maybe I feel disappointed with God, or maybe I feel mad at God, or maybe I'm even questioning if he's even there, or if he is there, if he even cares.
Our relationship with God is like any relationship that we have. We love God with all our being. And also sometimes we feel so frustrated that God isn't showing up in the ways we wish he would. Sometimes we feel disappointed in our lives and gosh, wouldn't it have been nice if God had just made that a little bit easier.
Sometimes we feel distant from God. We want to have faith in God and yet sometimes our faith wavers. What is this really all about? These are such normal emotions that we all experience, and it doesn't help to guilt trip ourselves for having these emotions. It doesn't help to gaslight ourselves about these emotions. It doesn't help to try to numb and avoid these emotions.
What does help, is to name these emotions with God. And so today I'm going to share with you some of this chapter and some bonus content that didn't make it into the chapter, so that together, we can name, frame, and brave a more wholehearted relationship with God.
The first problem I want to name when it comes to our conflicting feelings about God is a problem called spiritual bypassing. I write about this a lot on social media. Whenever I do, it gets a lot of traction. I think a lot of us have had this done to us and a lot of us do this to ourselves. Here's what I write in I Shouldn’t Feel This Way:
If you grew up in a faith community, you may have been taught to spiritually bypass the complex feelings you experience. Spiritual bypassing is essentially a thinking trap. It ignores the richness and complexity of your God given design. Maybe you feel confused, scared, or uncertain. You don't know what to think or do.
Instead of carefully working through the different layers of a complicated problem, you try to force fit a spiritual pseudo-solution. For example, you might try to tell yourself things like the following: I should just pray more. Just forgive and forget. That's the best way to approach this situation. Just let go and let God.
Sometimes you spiritually bypass yourself. Oftentimes other people encourage you to spiritually bypass. They assume that all your problems can be solved with a spiritual solution. A friend might encourage you to jump to forgiveness when what's really needed is to grieve a betrayal and establish healthy boundaries. Or a faith community might encourage you to spiritualize a problem that is not primarily spiritual.
For example, a spiritual leader might encourage you to pray harder for God to take away your depression or medical condition, instead of helping you find a professional who is trained to help you. Or they might encourage you to love the person harming you instead of helping you to protect yourself.
Spiritual bypassing keeps you from adequately addressing the problem you are facing. It also creates dissonance inside, which is internal discomfort. There's a whole chapter on dissonance, in I Shouldn’t Feel This Way. You want to trust in God, but the problem is only getting worse.
So you start to blame yourself. If only my faith were stronger. As a result of that inner tension, you resort to any of the following unhealthy coping strategies:
Self gaslighting. You tell yourself you don't feel what you really feel.
Numbing. You suppress your emotions instead of working to cope with them.
Magical thinking. You disregard reality and deny yourself the opportunity to discover practical solutions. You miss out on opportunities to develop skills, gain knowledge, or receive care and comfort from others.
Here's what is true. God created you with an ensemble of interconnected parts, including thoughts, emotions, and a nervous system, each one designed to work harmoniously like an orchestra. Your job, in partnership with God's Spirit, is to be the conductor of that orchestra, working patiently with all the pieces, including your thoughts and even your painful emotions and the cues your nervous system is sending you and bring that noise out of dissonance and into a cohesive melody.
It starts with naming the different truth pieces of what you feel. The truth is, you don't have to bypass your mixed up feelings. Instead, you can name them, frame them, and then brave a deeper understanding of yourself and your relationship with God. God doesn't ask you to bypass the conflicting emotions that you face. Not even the conflicting emotions you feel about him.
So often, those feelings are an opportunity to brave even deeper growth and healing. It's normal to experience confusion, doubt, anger, fear, or disappointment when it comes to God. You could even argue that Jesus experienced complicated feelings about God as he anguished in the Garden of Gethsemane.
You can almost sense the desperation in his prayer. Really, God? Really, I have to go through this? A relationship with God is like any relationship. It involves complicated feelings. I want to pray, but I'm so angry. I want to believe God is good, but I see so much suffering. I want to trust God with this decision, but I'm not certain. You might also experience complicated feelings about yourself in relationship to God.
I can't turn to God right now, I'm too far gone. I've done such terrible things. How could God love me? I should trust God, but frankly, I've done such terrible things. How could God love me? And this is my favorite: I should trust God, but frankly, I can't. I'd rather trust myself today.
Walking by faith is a delicate tightrope. It's the ultimate both-and. It involves trusting God and honoring the way you really feel. You can have faith and feel scared, confused, or uncertain. You can trust God and trust yourself, experience anger, disappointment, or doubt. You can follow Jesus and be uncertain about how to apply his teachings to the real problems in your life.
I would argue that true faith is the work of constantly reconciling what's impossibly hard with a hope in what's unfathomably good and beautiful. If you overweight either one, you miss out on the fullness of an active dynamic relationship with God. If you are someone who chafes against naive spiritual platitudes, or who wrestles with complicated feelings about God or faith, you're in good company. This wrestling is the work of faith.
The good news is that as with any relationship, when you name your complicated feelings, you invest in a deeper, more authentic bond instead of bypassing them. We often try to shove these feelings aside and manipulate ourselves into feeling what we should feel, or we process these feelings with friends or loved ones without ever processing them with God.
But what if spiritual maturity is bringing all of what you feel, including your anger, doubt, and confusion into your relationship with God? No matter where you are, whether you're journaling, waiting in the car pickup lane, or grocery shopping, simply start to name the different truth pieces you feel, and then address each one to God.
It’s a practice I like to call comma God. “I'm worried” becomes “I'm worried, God. I don't understand what's happening”. “I need help” becomes, “I need help, God. I don't know what to do”. “I'm sad”, becomes, “I'm sad, God. I feel so alone”. “I don't want to pray”, becomes, “I don't want to pray, God. I'm kind of mad at you right now”. And just like that, you're engaged in a prayer.
You become aware of yourself in the present moment and you become aware of God. Research shows that when you dwell on God and not only on yourself, you reduce stress and anxiety and increase your ability to tolerate painful experiences. To be clear, what you believe about this God with whom you're connecting matters.
Is this a God who loves you? Is this a God who's for you? Is this a God who takes you by the hand and walks with you through the trials that you face? It's wise to reconsider the messages you've internalized about God. Imagine if a child were to come running to you, angry or scared. Would you rebuke her or offer her a platitude?
Of course not. You would pull her close to you and give her the gift of your presence. “It's hard to feel angry. I'm here with you. I want to understand”. You'd give her compassion, tenderness, a sense that she's not alone.
Similarly, when we're mad, scared, uncertain, or heartbroken, we rarely need a reprimand or a pat answer from someone else or from God. We need presence. We need attunement. That doesn't mean we don't also want answers. We do, but just like a hurting child, we first always need connection. That's how God made us.
And if we know how to soothe a child who is hurting, how much more does the one who made us know how to attune to us in our sadness, hurt, or despair? Like a tender, loving parent, God meets us with compassionate kindness and presence in all of our complexity. God doesn't always fix things right away, but he does not ask us to bypass what we feel. He does not gaslight us. He does not ask us to pretend when we're hurting. Even when we're hurting about God, God gives us the gift of honoring the truth of what we feel.
Sometimes I think about that perfect person, that perfect relationship, where we just need to vent all of the pain, all of the emotion, all that we're feeling, and we just need them to hold space for us. Even though some of the things we feel aren't fair, even though some of the things we feel aren't really their fault, even though we know they're doing their best, we just need to let it out.
That's the kind of presence God gives us.
The paradox is that when you name what's hard, what's true in this very moment, you open yourself up to God. You stop trying to analyze your motives or earn God's approval. You stop trying to fix yourself or figure out God. You move into the present moment. You attune to what you really feel and God's Spirit attunes right there with you.
You're never closer to God than when you're naming what's hard. You're telling the truth and the truth is God's sweet spot.
When you name what's hard, you tend to bump into old messages. You've outgrown messages that keep you from growing deeper in genuine faith. You might be surprised at some of the messages you've picked up that interfere with an honest, authentic relationship with God.
Counterfeits–simplistic versions of otherwise beautifully rich spiritual concepts–such as what it means to love others, show faithfulness, experience joy, confess sin, or forgive are rampant. These false versions of these messages linger in your mind, often outside your conscious awareness, creating dissonance inside.
Naming those messages helps you tame them. You can then determine where you picked them up and why you believe them so that you can develop a truer viewpoint instead. Here are some of the most common counterfeit messages I observe in my work with clients and some ways to reframe them.
Number one, I should feel happy in my suffering. Passages like James 1:2 can be taken out of context and misinterpreted as suggesting that you should always feel happy. This counterfeit message encourages a false version of joy. The truth is that joy is a complicated emotion, intimately linked with experiences of sadness, grief and pain.
When I posted a video on Instagram on Tuesday about the book launch day, there was a lot of joy in that message, but that joy included some of the other emotions like sadness, like fear. My ability to experience joy, the fruit of joy, included my ability to honor some of those other feelings simultaneously.
Number two, if I had more faith, I wouldn't be struggling. Some religious circles equate faith in God with health, financial success, or happiness. This counterfeit message pressures you to project an image of being “blessed” or successful as evidence of your faith.
This is me interjecting: I really dislike those memes when I see them on social media that somehow a vision of outward success, material success, a perfect family, a perfect life, is an indicator of being blessed. That flies in the face of Matthew 5 and what Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount. The truth is that a strong faith is no guarantee against suffering. Instead, God promises that as you persevere through suffering, you'll develop character and hope. That's Romans 5:3-5.
Number three, I should just die to myself–which is the impetus for my second book, The Best of You. Jesus teaching about self-denial can be misconstrued to suggest that you should never consider your own needs.
This is a misapplication contrary to how Jesus lived his own life. This counterfeit message promotes a false version of sacrifice, encouraging you to disregard toxicity or boundary violations, instead of working in partnership with God's spirit to protect and care for yourself. The truth is that sacrifice is a delicate balance of selflessness and self-respect.
Number four, I should always feel content. While contentment is a virtue, it's a cultivated skill, not a quick fix. This counterfeit message promotes a false version of peace encouraging you to bypass negative feelings. The truth is that acknowledging frustrations or areas of discontent in your life can help you grow and change aspects of your life, yielding more contentment.
Number five, I should forgive and forget. Forgiveness is a central tenet of Jesus’ teaching, and it's an incredibly nuanced concept. The counterfeit version of forgiveness encourages you to minimize or overlook legitimate wrongs. That's not what Jesus taught. The truth is that acknowledging hurt and injustice is critical to ensuring that resentment and bitterness don't fester in your soul.
And that's the primary goal of forgiveness–to release the resentment and bitterness. It's a process, a practice that does not happen in an instant. It takes time and effort to engage in the work of forgiveness.
And number six, I'm a terrible sinner. This term, sin, reflects a complicated theological belief about the imperfect nature of humans and the need for redemption through Christ. The counterfeit version of confessing sin induces shame, false guilt, or control.
You try to shame yourself, beat yourself up, or others try to control you by exploiting the imperfect nature of your humanity. That's not what God intends. On the other hand, when you name the imperfections you see in yourself in a loving environment without shame, you find freedom, acceptance, and belonging, the opposite of shame.
You don't have to dupe yourself into these counterfeit versions of faith, hope, love, forgiveness, peace, or joy. Our God is so much deeper and richer and more intricate than the simplistic formulas we're so often given. Be honest about what you feel and create a place in between to reflect on the different truth pieces in partnership with God's spirit.
Here are some framing questions you can ask yourself if you're struggling with feeling conflicted about God. Facts. What counterfeit messages have I believed? Roots. Where did I pick up those messages? When did I start to believe them? Audit. Are these messages true? Do they yield spiritual fruit? Are they helping me discover more love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, or self control toward the parts of myself that are struggling, not only toward other people?
Mental messages. What messages do I tell myself about how God views me? What messages do I tell myself about how I'm feeling toward God? And finally, expansion. What do different passages from the Bible say about these messages I'm telling myself? What would someone who loves me and is for me say about these messages I'm telling myself?
Those framing questions are based on the FRAME Acronym. You'll find that full acronym in chapter three of I Shouldn't Feel This Way. I want to close today by talking through some holistic spiritual practices. This falls under the category of the step of braving. Sometimes we have to brave a different path. Or maybe brave a different way of doing things even while we stay on the same path we're on.
The antidote to spiritual bypassing is to brave a holistic relationship with God. One that includes all of your being, including the complexity of your thoughts, your nervous system, and your emotions. You're fighting for a more vital relationship with God. And in doing so, you're working out your salvation, which can also be translated as healing. This is from Philippians 2:12. You're working out your healing all your heart, soul, mind, and strength.
One practice I've enjoyed, I call whole body prayer. Many of us have this idea that praying means sitting quietly with your heads bowed and eyes closed. We measure the success of our prayers by the intensity of emotion or the minutes on the clock. But what if you incorporated your whole being into your prayer, including your thoughts, feelings, and even your body?
For example, in chapter five, you learned how to mind your mind throughout your day to pay attention to your thoughts. As you mind your mind while cooking or gardening or walking or driving to work, consider inviting God into the process of attuning to your thoughts. I'm worried about my child, my health, and my bills. Help me to think clearly about what's really going on, God. Be with me as I get to the root of what's happening.
Or I can't shake this idea that someone is mad at me. I hate the way that feels. Help me to consider the facts of the situation. God, help me discern if I did something wrong or if this is false guilt. Or I'm wrestling with anger. I'm feeling angry. I'm frustrated that this person is getting away with harmful behaviors. God, I'm not willing to be harmed anymore. Lead my thoughts as I consider how to best protect myself.
In chapter six, you identified different activities to help you process negative emotions instead of numbing. You might incorporate conversations with God into the activities you identified. For example, when you become aware of painful emotions, consider walking outside, eyes wide open, and naming what you notice as an act of praise.
I see that mountain, God, it reminds me of your strength. That tree is beautiful, God, it reminds me that all seasons pass. I'm grateful for the sun that always rises, God, it reminds me of your constancy. When you can't find words to pray or to connect you to God, give God thanks for the tangible reminders that you see in nature all around you.
Finally, in chapter seven, you learned how to ground yourself when your nervous system is activated, when you're experiencing an intense emotional reaction in your body. Remember that when a child is scared or upset, you'd first gently soothe her by pulling her close and taking deep breaths. As she soothes, she's more able to communicate with you about what happened.
Similarly, when you're activated, it can be hard to pray in the way most of us have been taught. It's helpful to calm your nervous system as you articulate what you feel or what you need. Consider the difference between the following prayers.
God, I'm desperate. Please make this go away. I can't take this anymore. As you pray, your heart is racing. Your body is tense. You're begging God to intervene in your situation. Now listen, there's nothing wrong with this type of prayer, but imagine a different way of turning to God in prayer.
God, I'm struggling. Take a deep breath. I know you're with me. Another deep breath. I'm scared. Take another deep breath. I need you.
God designed your body to release endorphins and good chemicals. When you breathe, sing, experience nature or move, incorporating any of these activities as you name what's hard with God will help you soothe your nervous system in partnership with the way God designed you.
And finally, you might need to brave new forms of healing communities. The first time I experienced the pain and dissonance that comes as a result of church-sanctioned spiritual bypassing was while I was working at a Christian summer camp as a college student. During an early Bible study, a leader of the camp taught us that if we didn't hear the voice of Jesus whispering in our ear telling us what to do each day, there was something wrong with our faith.
I didn't hear the voice of Jesus that summer, At least not in the way that the Bible teacher thought that I should, as proof of my faith. Instead, I watched as my peers sought to showcase the superiority of their spirituality through quoting Bible passages and public displays of morality. All the while, not one word was said about the cliques, overt racism, and cruel jokes about the very people we were there to serve that permeated staff culture.
That's not the Jesus that I serve. The dissonance inside me that summer was almost intolerable. I felt heartsick and confused. Not about Jesus–I knew that the hypocrisy I witnessed was not the fruit of listening to his voice. Still, I was confused about how people who claim to follow Jesus could be so horrible to other people.
Somehow, even at that young age, I knew it was okay to feel what I felt. I named it and framed it constantly with God. How could people who claim to love you, God, and hear your voice, behave in these ways to other people? I didn't force myself to pretend it was okay. Over time, this relentless naming and framing paid off. I began to see how I could brave a healing path. I couldn't change that experience, but I could do my part to help others who are hurt by toxic spiritual cultures.
Over time, my family and I also braved a whole different kind of church community, one where the focus was on caring for those who were hurting the most, those suffering tremendous pain, addictions, homelessness, and debilitating mental illnesses. In that community, we felt connected and accepted in ways we'd never felt before.
This is me interjecting here, but the words that we use constantly to describe that community was holy ground. It's where we sensed God's holy presence the most. When people were being the most honest and real about their brokenness.
One of the practices we came to cherish was a time each Sunday during the service to give testimony. I was always amazed by the honest naming that ensued.
I'm Bob, and I didn't use last night, even though I really wanted to.
We love you, Bob.
I'm Peggy. I found a wallet, and I really wanted to steal the money in it, but I didn't.
We love you, Peggy.
I'm Stan. I'm depressed, but I got out of bed this morning, praise be to God.
We love you, Stan.
I began to brave a new vision of what it means to be in community. What if we learned to name together, honestly? What if we lovingly attuned to each other's struggles instead of trying to fix them? What if we could chase away old messages of shame and counterfeit virtues?
I'm Matt and my heart is broken today.
We love you, Matt. We're glad you're here.
I'm Anne and I cannot stop people-pleasing.
Welcome, Anne. We receive you.
I'm Joni and I'm so mad at my friend.
It's good to see you, Joni.
I'm Chad and I relapsed last night.
Welcome, Chad. Thanks for coming.
I'm Sue and I yelled at my kids this morning.
We did too. We're so glad you're here with us today.
As we name together, without shame, we become a truer, more beautiful oasis and embodied experience of Christ for each other. Psychiatrist and fellow therapist, Curt Thompson, wrote in his beautiful book, The Soul of Desire, about small groups of people he leads called confessional communities.
In these communities, individuals gather to name their longings, their heartbreaks, and their traumas. What Curt said is that all are “acts of prayer, creating spaces for connection and transformation…it is in communities like these that we encounter the possibility of being deeply known and where we practice for heaven. It is in a body of like minded people who are working hard to tell their stories as truly as they can, that Jesus shows up right in the middle of their narratives and utters in the voices of others to hear in the room, peace be with you”.
And I would add, “you're not alone”. I experienced what Curt described, not only within my church community, but also with my sister and two childhood friends. We gather regularly with the purpose to name, frame, and brave what's hard in our lives as one person shares the truth pieces of a fragmented story.
The others listen attentively not to solve the problem, but to bear witness to all the pieces. As a result of being attuned to in this way, we each catch a glimpse of a truer, more beautiful picture of our lives. As a result of being seen and known by a loving community, we grow stronger and steadier, sure of ourselves, our convictions, and our purpose. We develop a deeper sense of integrity within ourselves, with others, and with the one who made us.
If you've been taught that working out your faith should be simple, unthinking, or one size fits all, I would argue that you've been taught wrong. The Bible is not a simple book. Following Jesus is not always straightforward. Learning how to forgive, walk by faith, love others, and live joyfully takes skill. It takes perseverance.
It requires you to attend to various truth pieces in partnership with God's Spirit. Name, frame, and brave your way through complexity in your emotions. Shallow, simplistic formulas won't cut it. Not in this world.
The good news is that like your maker, you are beautifully vast and rich and wonderfully deep and intricate. You were made with the capacity to attune to your inner being, to shape the content and direction of your own thoughts and emotions, and even the responses of your nervous system. Learning to access and harness the power of your God given design to shape your life is one of the most joyful and lasting sources of satisfaction.
As a tree grows tall and strong over time, its root system spreads out, providing more stability to the tree and tapping into a broader range of nutrients. The complexity of the root system contributes to the overall strength and resilience of the tree.
The same is true with your spiritual growth. When you do the work to navigate uncertainty, process disappointments, and grieve painful experiences, you become stronger, wiser, and more resilient in your life. Even as you expand to tap into a broader range of spiritual practices, you don't have to choose between honoring yourself and your experience and honoring the God who made you.
That choice is a false dichotomy. Instead, you can connect and attune to yourself and with God. You can name what's hard and claim your hope. You can honor all the things that you feel and honor the faith you have in God.
Here's the paradox of hope: to experience hope, you have to face what's hard. You have to practice the awkward motions of naming what's wrong, examining the truth pieces and reflecting on what's not working. Sometimes you tumble to the ground. You ask for help. You get back up.
Hope emerges as you find your way through the suffering. It's a paradox. There's no comfort if you don't face the truth of exactly where you are. Counterfeit hope bypasses reality. It ignores landmines and obstacles. It pretends everything is just fine. Even though you're floundering, it's like offering someone a shiny red plastic apple when they're starved for real nourishment.
True hope, on the other hand, enters into your reality. It helps you name what's hard. It helps you unearth deeper understanding. And as a result, it catalyzes you into brave action. Shame is eradicated. You experience the thrill of working your way through a tangled-up mess and discovering a beautiful clearing on the other side.
Best of all, you start to find hope within the journey. You start to activate glimmers of hope every step along the way. You activate hope when you catch yourself in a thinking trap and redirect your thoughts with patient tender care. You activate hope when you gently nourish yourself through pain instead of numbing. You activate hope when you patiently soothe your nervous system. You activate hope when you name toxicity for what it is and set a boundary with it.
You no longer fear suffering or hardship because you've learned how to brave it to create harmony out of dissonance, calm out of chaos, peace out of pieces. The entire process, naming, framing, and braving, becomes a virtuous cycle of hope. You're taking charge of this beautiful life you've been given.
You're shattering the divide between where you are now and where you want to go. You're shattering the divide between what's hard and the goodness you long to see. You're shattering the divide between the pain of this earth and the glorious hope of heaven.