i doubt it.

I'm about to be really overdramatic for a bit here, but it's my blog and it's 1am and I'm feelin' it, so it's going to happen. I'm not even going to apologize. Here we go.

Every year, when I answer the question "How old are you?" or "What grade are you in?", my voice gets a little quieter and my laugh a little more nervous. It's not because I'm embarrassed about my age. I have far more important things about which to be embarrassed. No, my voice gets quieter from the growing sense of fear inside me. Not fear that you're going to ask the question I know is coming (aka "So what are your plans after high school?"), though I do absolutely dread being asked that question. Nope, we're talking about the fear of the unknown.

The unknown. Lemme tell ya: That vast abyss of "I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doing" gets me. It hits a nerve. It honestly just scares the heck out of me. And here I am, entering a year full of that unknown that just seems to keep getting bigger and scarier. I am increasingly becoming more and more okay with hiding in my bed under my Pooh Bear comforter and Curious George blanket with my big stuffed monkey for the next several decades.

And then, to make life a little more exciting (and a little more terrifying), here comes the doubt. The nagging little voice inside my head that whispers to my heart that I can't do what I dream of doing. The stupid voice of doubt that steals away that last little bit of sureness in my already almost entirely unsure concept of my future. Because, really, will I ever be good enough even to bother being a photographer? There's so many out there already. Why add to that number with a bunch of mediocrity and good-enough pictures?

That's what this past summer has done to me. It's taken every last bit of my confidence, ripped it to shreds, and ground it into the dirt. It's given me enough doubts to last a lifetime.  It's made my voice even quieter when I look at the floor and say, "I'm a senior" because I truly am not ready to take on life after high school (as ready as I am to be done).

(I told you that I was going to be overdramatic)

And then I realized: Doubts are okay. Doubts are even good sometimes. They make you stop and think. They make you reevaluate why you want to do what you want to do. That darn doubt made me ask myself if I want to be a photographer because I feel like God is calling me to that or if I just want it because that's the dream I've had for the past four years and I've never had a dream for that long before.

I still don't know. I still haven't worked through the doubt and the fear yet. I still have that nagging doubt hanging out with me every time I pick up my camera. It's a process and I'm slowly working through it. But God is teaching me not to be afraid of that process. He's teaching me not to back down because it's daunting, but to walk straight up to that doubt and say, "Hey. You and I are going to talk and only one of us is going to make it out of this in one piece." That ripped-up confidence of mine is gradually picking itself out of the dirt and dusting itself off.

What's my point here? Well, I guess I'll just say this: Don't run from your doubt. Don't push it into the back of your head and let it fester there until it overpowers you. Seriously, don't treat your doubt like a weakness. Honey, that doubt of yours is going to make you the strongest you've ever been. Claim it, sweetheart. Claim it and then work through it. Have a good, long chat with God about it. Ask Him if this is of Him or not. Seek Him through it all. He'll lead you in the direction you should go. Doubt doesn't have to be debilitating. It can be empowering. You can use it to dig deeper into your faith, lean closer into Jesus, fall harder in love with that one thing you just adore doing. Doubt doesn't make you a bad person or a bad Christian or less than who you want to be unless you let it do that. Take that doubt, look it in the metaphorical eye, and say, "Only one of us is going to make it out of this in one piece." The only way it's going to get the best of you is if you don't take it head-on. Stand up tall, hold your head high, and say, "You're not getting me this time."