Losing the Thread of Faith

 Today feels like one of those days where my faith is thin and frayed. Like a thread I’ve been holding onto for years that’s finally starting to slip through my fingers.

I don’t even know why, really. Maybe it’s the heaviness of everything... the world feels so loud, so fast, and I feel so small against it. It’s like trying to catch my breath when the air keeps rushing by.

I haven’t been writing much lately. It’s like I can’t find the words, or maybe I’m afraid of what I’ll see if I try to put them down. Faith feels distant... not gone, but faint. Like a voice calling from far away and I can’t quite make out the words.

I guess I thought that by now, I’d have a firmer grasp on all of this. But the truth is, I’m still stumbling. Still trying to find God in the ordinary days... in the dishes, the laundry, the quiet.

It’s been a while since I wrote about journaling. Funny how something that’s supposed to help me sort through all this can feel so impossible sometimes. But maybe that’s what this journal is for... not just the moments of clarity, but the ones where I feel lost, too.

I keep thinking about something I wrote a while back... about how faith feels quiet sometimes, like trying to hear God through the rustle of leaves. I still feel that way... like I’m straining to hear something that’s barely there.

This time ... just a quiet hope that maybe, if I keep writing, I’ll find the thread again.