Black.
The sky,
but it's not a good day.
The sun is shining without a cloud,
but my soul is dark and rainy and an amorphous mess of in-betweens.
Ruts.
In between "yes" and "no,"
Indecisive -
Not quite knowing where I am,
Who I am,
What I am,
or where the fuck I am going.
Hopelessly lost but with an eager, blubbering, overflowing-to-the-point-of-discomfort intensity to move past ambiguity to Clarity.
Oh, Clarity. Ungraspable clarity. Just out of reach. Always.
I only possessing nebulous ideas of right and wrong.
Who is God, even?
What does He want from me truly?
I can't know.
Doubt. Doubt is the color of the sky. But in a darker shade. Deeper. Between navy and indigo.
Almost black.
My doubt is my greatest enemy but my ultimate Protector.
It keeps me from venturing out of my comfort zone.
My bubble of doubt is safe and I can use my doubt as an excuse for my lack of faith.
I can use it as a crutch. A crutch preventing me from spiritual growth that I SAY I so desperately need and want but am not willing to do the work for.
Ha! Funny that people consider faith a crutch. But no, doubt is mine.
Doubt keeps me from movement.
Doubt keeps me still.
But not a type of stillness synonymous with peace. Please, do not misunderstand THAT.
There is NO peace for me.
I am rather in a rut of anxiety. A stillness like a cage.
Trapped.
Wanting help, but from who? A God I don't believe in enough?
Well, shit.
"Be still and know I am God?" More like, "be anxious and doubt God exists."
"Lord, I believe; help me with my unbelief?" But what if it's more like, "Lord, I DON'T believe. Help me with THAT."
Faith as small as a mustard seed supposedly moves mountains.
Well, holy Almighty One, what if my faith is smaller even than THAT?
Borderline nonexistent.
That sinister, perverse color of the sky - masking as something beautiful.
It is manipulative. It does not accurately portray the color of my heart.
Maybe a darker shade, sure.
But even that is not doing my misery justice.
We'll call "that color" black, instead.