Doubt

It’s been raining daily, and the earthworms come out in droves after each rain. Yesterday I found an earth worm inside my house. I’m sure one of us tracked in this worm on the bottom of our shoes. As I picked up this worm and threw it in the garbage, I was reminded of all the other creepy-crawlies that I have unintentionally brought into my home.

One such worm that has hitched a ride into my life lately is doubt. I am hesitant to believe the best in people. I frequently distrust their motives. When I meet new people, I wonder if they have an agenda for befriending me. Just like everyone else in the world, I’ve had a few bad experiences where people have used me or disappointed me. Instead of reminding myself of all the good people that I have encountered over the years, I base my attitude on these few negative individuals.

I also doubt myself—my motives, my capacity to handle difficult situations, my instincts. Why do I write? Is it a useful exercise or a waste of time? Am I being authentic? Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about! What if something really bad happened; would I be able to remain sane? Would I be able to function? My gut says a certain choice is risky; am I right? Or maybe I’m just letting fear and anxiety control my decisions.

The worm of doubt keeps inching further into my soul. I start doubting God—His intentions, His care. Maybe He has plans to continue testing me indefinitely. Maybe His expectations are higher than I care to meet. Maybe He is holding out on me or has lost interest in me, or even worse, is disappointed in me.

Instead of removing the worm of doubt as soon as I noticed it, I kept it around as a pet. I fed it and played with it, not realizing that it was a pest. Now it has multiplied and squirmed its way deeper into my soul.