All my life I have searched for truth. I started writing poetry when I was twelve years old, putting on paper my struggle to find the kernel of truth in all the emotion drowning my young heart.
When I turned twenty-three I had a baby. My questioning took on deeper dimensions, beyond a school girl’s love-sick wonderings. Faced with new life, a parent sees in its shadow the reality of their own death. Ever on my mind were enormous questions left unanswered, casting a grimness even on happy moments.
What is the meaning of life? Where will I go when I die? Why are we here?
I was convinced there had to be answers. There had to be one truth, one shining nugget of perfect truth I could pick up and say, “This is IT!” Oh, but I couldn’t find it! My heart filled with despair and grew heavy with hopelessness as I tried to make sense out of my life.
Seemingly without direction, I stumbled through empty days when finally I reached the crescendo of my confusion. I had arrived at the point of desperation. Panicked and shaking with anxiety, I could not see the truth and without it, my world was to be destroyed.
What a simple and yet edifyingly difficult thing it was to finally lay my heart before God and cry for help. The funny thing is, all He wanted me to do was give up. I, who worked so diligently to be strong and forge ahead, never dreamed that the key to life is to quit fighting and let someone else do all the work.
But when I did, oh, what treasures He had in store! The veil of uncertainty was ripped from my eyes and the precious truth, so long searched for, was more glorious than I had ever imagined. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever conceive of a peace drenched with such sweetness, a joy filled with such gladness, and a truth as blazing and bright. My world now sparkles with wonder.
Praise be to God! He is the answer to all things. Hallelujah to the Risen Christ!
I’m alive because He lives.