When I Asked to Walk With God, and the Ground Gave Way

 

One of my prayers every night is this:

"Lord, give me a chance to walk with You. To follow You completely. To walk in the righteous path."

And then, for days, everything unraveled.

Instead of clarity, I was handed struggle after struggle. My patience was stretched until it tore. The deepest core of my emotions was crushed, ground down until I no longer recognized myself. It felt like I was dragged into the lowest pit, a place where light barely reached. Negative thoughts swarmed me, relentless and suffocating, until there came a moment when I didn't want answers anymore. I just wanted to disappear.

I was shaken to my core.

I cried out to God with no polish left in my words. 

"Why am I feeling like this?" 

"Why is all of this happening now, when my faith in You is stronger than ever?"

"I asked for a chance to walk with You, so why does the path like thorns, stones, and rubble cutting into my feet?"

I didn't understand. I still don't understand, at least not fully.

Then came my dream.

I can't remember every detail, only the weight of it. I was standing on the edge of a deep cliff. Beside me stood a man in a long white robe. We were looking down as buildings, massive rocks, cars, entire structures were being swallowed whole, pulled into destruction as if the ground itself had given up. Then everything shifted into chaos.

I wasn't part of it. I was only an observer.

I stood on a rock as floodwaters surged below. In the water lay a young female child; naked, lifeless, her long hair spread around her, placed on a cardboard box like something discarded. And I did nothing. I just stood there, watching. Unable to move. Unable to save. Awake inside the dream, but powerless.

When I woke, I told myself it was just another strange dream. Lately I've been having many.

But later, standing alone in the bathroom, a thought struck me with terrifying clarity:

God is testing me.

Not in comfort, but in descent.

Not by lifting me up but by dragging me down to the lowest point, to see how deep my faith truly goes when there is nothing left to hold onto.

Because I have always said I wanted to follow Him completely.

And following Him was never promised to be easy.

I thought of the story of Job, how faith is not proven in abundance, but in loss. How righteousness is not revealed in safety, but in suffering. Maybe this is only the beginning. Maybe there are still more trials ahead. More stripping. More silence. More moments when God feels impossibly far, even as He is closest.

I don't know if I am strong.

I don't know if I am ready.

All I know is that I asked to walk with Him, and now I am learning that walking with God does not always mean walking on solid ground. Sometimes it means walking through collapse, through grief, through questions with no immediate answers.

And still choosing not to turn back.