What have you done?

"What have you done?"
These were the only words that came to mind. "No, seriously Stacy! What have you done?!"
And thus began this inner dialogue that continues a year later. I sat in the crowded Barnes & Noble surrounded by people going about their "everyday lives" and knew that I wouldn't experience "everyday life" as I had come to know it ever again. I sat at what soon became my regular table behind the garbage can - across from the self-help books and I cried.
Now when I say I cried, I don't mean cute little movie tears, I mean ugly, snot face - boo-hoo tears. Tears that made the man on the other side of the trash can stop chatting with himself so he could see what was going on.
You see up until that moment I was confident!  I left my job of three years, my family, friends and church, flew 3,846 miles (yes, I checked!)  to Fairbanks, Alaska because God told me to. I left my apartment, my beta fish Rupert, and all of my earthly possessions in Ohio, and I just knew that it was going to be okay.  But that morning, when my best friend droped me off at Barnes & Noble "reality"  hit me. I don't know if it was the jet lag, the 18 hour flight, or the four different airports that I had visited the day before, but suddenly what looked like adventure and possibility just 36 hours ago now looked like pipe dreams and stupidity.
 And so, for the first time in my life I was more than four hours away from my parents, I was essentially unemployed and I had no plan. Coincidentally, for the first time in my life I really began to question that God actually had a plan for my life.  I would like to say that these questions were easily dissuaded by my quick wit, charming personality, and my Bible degree, but the truth is quick wit won't reveal the truth, a charming personality won't erase doubt, and a Bible degree won't reveal the Father's love for you.
 Anyone who knows me -  heck, anyone who will sit still long enough to hear me talk - knows that I quickly fell in love with Alaska; I fell in love with the beauty, the culture, the coffee, my job, the weather...(seriously, I will talk about it for hours if you let me!)  I even extended my two month stay to four months. But for some reason the line of questioning has not gone away. That dreaded feeling of doubt has never quite left my gut.
 Most of my adult life I was called naïve, told that I was too trusting, that I try to hard to find good in bad situations because I didn't want the discomfort of a confrontation, but something changed in me when I loosened my grip on faith. Suddenly the path that I was on looked a lot less like a gift from a loving God and a lot more like a product of circumstance. Suddenly the people who loved me and went out of their way to help me seemed a lot more like another person to whom I was obliged and a lot less like God using people  to love me and show that He will provide.
This doubt that crept in that day distorted my view of God. Instead of looking at my time in Alaska is God's way of removing me from a bad situation and a time of healing and restoration, I began to see it as me being selfish, running away, being irresponsible. And when I couldn't shake the feeling of guilt I gave into it.
 What was this guilt about? I felt guilty for leaving my job, I felt guilty for leaving my family, friends and church. I felt guilty that I was having the time of my life when I knew that there were people back home who were upset that I had gone.
 While I was letting this guilt and doubt take over, I was missing the things that God was trying to do for me. It wasn't until a car ride home from Bible study that things began to click for me.
 My best friend Jodi, knowing me better than anyone, could see the turmoil rolling around in my head. That evening, driving from North Pole to Fairbanks she said to me: "Em, did you ever stop to think that maybe you DIDN'T screw  up your life? That maybe God brought you here so he could heal your heart for a new beginning?"
 Had I ever stoped to think that? Well, no, because guilt and doubt are ugly monsters who come in to destroy everything they can. Unfortunately, when guilt and doubt come to town they bring their good pal fear and the three of them take no prisoners; with them it's kill or be killed and they know all of the tricks. They make you see life ia a flow chart instead of an intricate tapestry woven by the same hands that held the seas and sculpted the mountains.
 I wish I could say that after that moment I fixed my attitude, read my Bible more, and wholeheartedly believed that God has an amazing plan for my life, but I'm not that smart. It seems that I keep circling back to the same question, "What have you done?"
I left my amazing job and friends in the amazing State of Alaska.
"What have you done?"
 I got a job in the field that I swore I would never return to.
"What have you done?"
I let go of friendships.
"What have you done?"
I let new people into my life.
"What have you done?"
 And now I'm a week away from returning to the amazing job, friends, and State that I love and I find myself asking again: "What have you done?"
 The amazing thing is that God is even more constant in this question. He is more consistent than the fear, doubt and guilt. He provides for me when I doubt Him the most. He loves me when I deny Him. He holds my hand even when I can't feel His presence. He orders my steps even when I think I'm calling the shots. He sees me when I'm over looked, knows me when I misunderstood and wants me when I refused to except His love.
So, "what have you done?"  I've never been able to come up with a good enough answer to that question, but that's the beauty, I don't have to.