Losing Confidence

Yet again, I am posting an essay (or whatever one may call it?) that I have already posted on FB before...but, by reposting what I've already shared, I'm hoping to also be able to better explain the story behind the story, or what inspired its existence. This one came into being as a way to show how a lack of confidence affects our decisions (or indecisions), and how confusing and tiring that can be. For me, it's always been hard to distinguish God's voice (I have a LOT to learn in the way of discernment), and many decisions do not come easily because of it. Of course, praying always helps, but it can still be very confusing at times, so that is sort of my own reason for writing it, although it may be taken differently depending on the individual. Sooo..... here it is.

He stood at one side of a bridge, his shoes teetering up and down in uncertainty over the dividing line between damp earth and the first wooden plank. His indecisive nature was the result of a war within him, with both possible choices trying to conquer the majority of ground, each side attempting to win his favor. But this battle had been in motion for an incredibly long time, and went in a sort of back-and-forth direction. Every time he became almost sure of his choice, his mind made up, the opposing side would then advance, causing him to lose faith once again. Eventually, this tug-of-war had resulted in a stalemate, leaving him more confused than ever. Maybe he had taken a wrong turn, and this wasn’t the right bridge. Perhaps he had become lost in the trees a few miles back and should retrace his steps to the last point of decision in his journey. He had already had to cross several bridges, ranging in variance from foot bridges that crossed narrow streams to massive structures that spanned major rivers, and each time he had been unable to come to an immediate decision about whether or not to cross, and had wished that he could return to a more familiar place. Either way, he felt he would be making a mistake, and that he would show little enthusiasm for whichever option he chose. Whether or not he was making the right choice, he knew that each of his steps in either direction would become a question, a worry that he had been wrong. His wavering spirit was becoming overwhelming, and he wanted to recover his confidence, but this confidence always seemed far behind him, only discovered when it was no longer felt necessary. This bridge was no exception, and as he stood there, he thought back over those previously covered. But no matter how much he wanted to , he could not turn around, or move backwards at all for that matter, because while fear and doubt tugged at him in the direction from which he came, his need to keep going pushed him forward with equal strength, so that despite the immense pressure on him, he remained motionless. So for now, he was stuck on the brink; his toes resting on wood, his soles planted in the dirt.