Imagen de mi autorĂa generada con AI Piclumem.comHe intentado entenderlo muchas veces.
ÂżPor quĂ©, si me he sentido tan frustrado, tan solo, tan seco por dentro… por quĂ© no puedo simplemente soltar a Dios y ya? ÂżPor quĂ© no puedo apagar esa voz dentro que me sigue recordando que Él está ahĂ, aunque no lo vea?
No es que me falten razones para dudar. La vida no ha sido sencilla. He orado sin sentir respuestas. Me he sentido ignorado. A veces hasta invisible. He caminado entre gente, rodeado de palabras, sonrisas, conversaciones… y aún asà me he sentido solo.
Un tipo de soledad que no se llena con presencia humana. Que no se alivia ni siquiera con ruido. Y ha habido momentos en los que he dicho: “¿Y si todo esto no es real? ¿Y si dejo de creer?”
Pero no puedo.
No es orgullo, ni miedo. No es un hábito viejo que no se va. Es algo más profundo. Es como si algo dentro de mĂ, incluso en mis peores dĂas, se negara a dejarlo ir. Como si en lo más escondido de mi alma hubiera una llama que, aunque pequeña, no se apaga. Y me di cuenta de que esa llama no la encendĂ yo.
“Porque por gracia ustedes han sido salvados mediante la fe; y esto no procede de ustedes, sino que es el don de Dios.” (Efesios 2:8)
Eso fue lo que me sacudiĂł: no fui yo quien empezĂł esto. Fue Él. Él sembrĂł algo en mĂ. Y lo que Dios inicia, Él mismo lo sostiene. No importa cuán desgastado me sienta, cuántas veces tropiece, cuántas dudas me atraviesen… la semilla sigue viva.
No puedo dejar de creer porque ya no se trata de mĂ. Se trata de que Él me tiene.
Jesús lo dijo con palabras que no se me borran: “Mis ovejas oyen mi voz; yo las conozco y me siguen. Yo les doy vida eterna, y nunca perecerán, ni nadie las arrebatará de mi mano.” (Juan 10:27-28)
He querido irme, pero no puedo. Porque ya escuchĂ© Su voz. Ya lo conocĂ. Ya me hablĂł de una manera que ningĂşn ser humano ha logrado. Y por más que me aleje, por más que intente silenciar esa voz, algo en mĂ la sigue reconociendo.
No puedo mentirme. Él ya me alcanzó.
Pablo lo dijo claro: “El que comenzĂł en ustedes la buena obra, la perfeccionará hasta el dĂa de Cristo JesĂşs.” (Filipenses 1:6)
Y esa verdad me sostiene. Él empezó. Él sostiene. Él termina. Aunque yo esté cansado, confundido, desgastado… Él no lo está. Él sigue obrando. Y eso me da descanso.
Una vez leĂ las palabras de JeremĂas, y me identifiquĂ© tanto. Él estaba harto, dolido, cansado de hablar en nombre de Dios. Y dijo que no lo harĂa más. Que no lo recordarĂa más. Pero luego dijo: “Pero fue en mi corazĂłn como fuego ardiente metido en mis huesos; tratĂ© de sufrirlo, y no pude.” (JeremĂas 20:9)
AsĂ me pasa a mĂ. A veces digo: “No más. No quiero saber.” Pero luego, ese fuego. Ese susurro. Esa certeza en lo profundo de mi alma. No puedo ignorarla. Es Su voz. Su EspĂritu. Su presencia.
No puedo dejar de creer porque he probado algo que es real. Porque he vivido momentos en los que Su paz sobrepasó todo entendimiento. Porque he visto Su mano levantarme cuando ni yo me soportaba. Porque aún en mi confusión, Él ha permanecido.
No puedo dejar de creer porque la fe no es un pensamiento bonito. Es una marca eterna en el alma. Y aunque tenga mil razones para alejarme, tengo una sola para quedarme… y esa sola razón es suficiente: Jesús no me soltó.
Asà que si tú también estás en ese punto donde no sabes si seguir o rendirte, donde dudas pero algo en ti no te deja ir… quédate. No porque lo tengas todo claro, sino porque Su amor te tiene, descansa en eso.
Él sigue contigo, incluso cuando no puedes sentirlo, y tal vez, solo tal vez, esa lucha que llevas por dentro es la mejor prueba de que Dios aún está obrando.
Y eso… eso es esperanza.
🇬🇧 English version
Image of my own generated with AI Piclumem.comI've tried to understand it many times. Why, if I've felt so frustrated, so alone, so dry inside... why can't I just let God go? Why can't I turn off that voice inside that keeps reminding me that He is there, even when I can't see Him? It's not that I don't have enough reasons to doubt. Life hasn't been easy. I've prayed without receiving answers. I've felt ignored. Sometimes even invisible. I've walked among people, surrounded by words, smiles, conversations... and still I've felt alone. A kind of loneliness that isn't filled by human presence. That isn't relieved even by noise. And there have been times when I've said, "What if all this isn't real? What if I stop believing?" It's not pride, or fear. It's not an old habit that won't go away. It's something deeper. It's as if something inside me, even on my worst days, refuses to let go. As if in the deepest recesses of my soul there's a flame that, though small, won't go out. And I realized I didn't light that flame. "For by grace you have been saved, through faith; and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God." (Ephesians 2:8) That's what shook me: it wasn't me who started this. It was Him. He planted something in me. And what God begins, He Himself sustains. No matter how worn down I feel, how many times I stumble, how many doubts pierce me… the seed remains alive. I can't stop believing because it's no longer about me. It's about Him having me. Jesus said it with words that I can't forget: “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish, nor will anyone snatch them out of my hand.” (John 10:27-28) I've wanted to leave, but I can't. Because I've already heard His voice. I've already met Him. He's already spoken to me in a way no human being has ever achieved. And no matter how far I distance myself, no matter how hard I try to silence that voice, something in me still recognizes it. Paul made it clear: “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6) And that truth sustains me. He began. He sustains. He finishes. Even if I'm tired, confused, worn out... He's not. He's still working. And that gives me rest. I once read Jeremiah's words, and I could relate so much. He was sick, hurt, tired of speaking for God. And he said he wouldn't do it anymore. He wouldn't remember it anymore. But then he said, “It was in my heart like a burning fire shut up in my bones; I tried to bear it, but I could not.” (Jeremiah 20:9) That's how it is with me. Sometimes I say, “No more. I don't want to know.” But then, that fire. That whisper. That certainty deep in my soul. I can't ignore it. It's His voice. His Spirit. His presence. I can't stop believing because I've tasted something that's real. Because I've experienced moments where His peace surpassed all understanding. Because I've seen His hand lift me up when I couldn't even bear myself. Because even in my confusion, He has remained. I can't stop believing because faith isn't a pretty thought. It's an eternal mark on the soul. And even if I have a thousand reasons to walk away, I have only one to stay... and that one reason is enough: Jesus didn't let me go. So if you too are at that point where you don't know whether to continue or give up, where you hesitate but something inside you won't let go... stay. Not because you have everything clear, but because His love has you, rest in that. He is still with you, even when you can't feel it, and maybe, just maybe, that struggle you carry inside is the best proof that God is still working. And that... that's hope.
But I can't.
I can't lie to myself. He's already reached me.