Spiritual Mess

A lot of searching, not many roots.

I have been in a season where spirituality became a mess. A lot of searching, not many roots.

Spiritual confusion does not usually begin with bad intentions. It begins with thirst. With wanting to understand, heal, find peace and get answers.

When life feels uncertain or heavy, people start searching. Sometimes it begins with curiosity, or because something felt real and you want to understand it more. That is how it began for me.

I thought I was being open, deep and brave when I explored, mixed things together and kept looking. I read a lot, listened to many voices and picked up influences from here and there.

Everything sounded good. Beautiful. Gentle. It sounded like nothing was being demanded too much, and I did not have to commit to one thing. I could take a little of this, a pinch of that, and build a spirituality that felt safe in that moment.

Jesus could be included too. As one part. One voice among others.

Looking back, I can see it for what it was. Spiritual mess.

At some point, I noticed that even though spirituality was constantly present, nothing actually carried me. There were experiences, insights and moments, but no foundation. When life became truly hard, everything fell apart in my hands. There was nothing to lean on when my own understanding was no longer enough.

For me, that was exactly what spiritual confusion looked like. A lot of searching, but very few roots.

Spirituality became a project. Tools, practices, thoughts, explanations. Many beautiful words and promising perspectives, but very little real peace. The cross had slipped to the side, even if I could not have said it that clearly back then.

Eventually I woke up to the fact that I had built a faith that revolved mostly around myself. My understanding, my experiences, my interpretation. It looked like freedom, but in the end it was exhausting. I was not resting anywhere. I was not trusting. I did not know how to let go.

The more I tried to understand, control and find answers on my own, the deeper I sank into uncertainty. Self-reliance looked strong at first, but it turned out to be a swamp with no bottom. The more I stepped into it, the heavier everything became. There was always something else to search for. More understanding, more techniques, more explanations. And if something did not work, the blame always circled back to me. I was not awake enough, pure enough, ready enough. Something was always still missing.

It wore me out.

When I finally realized this, I did something that felt like the only possible next step. I went through my bookshelf and burned all the books connected to that world. There were many of them. Really many. And financially, it was not a small pile either.

I did not do it on impulse or in a panic. It was surprisingly calm. I understood that I could not move forward if I kept leaving the door slightly open behind me. I had to cut off the loop where everything kept returning to my own strength, my own insight and my own ability to make things work.

That moment confirmed what I had already been sensing for a long time. A spirituality that ultimately rests on the human self cannot carry you when you can no longer carry yourself.

I did not want to keep feeding thought patterns that were pulling me further away from the roots.

It was freeing.

Only then did I begin to understand how simple faith really is. And at the same time, how difficult it is for a person who wants to keep all the strings in her own hands.

As I read the Bible, I began to see that it was speaking about something completely different. The focus did not turn back to me, but to God, the One I could lean on. I did not have to remember who I was, find my inner truth or reach the right level of consciousness.

The way had already been given.

Jesus said:

“I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.”
(John 14:6, KJV)

That verse no longer left room for me to mix everything together. It also did not demand that I prove anything. It simply drew a line.

Since then, I have wanted roots. Not just endless searching. A place where I can finally stay.

For me, spiritual mess was largely this: searching for life everywhere except where life is actually found. When I let go of what I had been trying to build and control myself, the foundation was no longer resting on me. And I no longer had to manage alone.

When I look back at that season now, I cannot help but laugh a little. It was spiritual wandering in full color. This today, that tomorrow, something completely different the day after. I was constantly moving, but not really going anywhere. Looking back, it almost seems comically chaotic. A lot of enthusiasm, a lot of searching and very little real foundation.

At the time, it felt deep and important. Now, honestly, it looks pretty wild. A lot of movement, a lot of words, a lot of emotion, but no real ground underneath it all.

It is a relief to realize that I no longer have to search for myself or my direction in every new idea that comes along. Now it is enough to stay. To be rooted.

These days, I no longer want spiritual mixtures or spiritual chaos.

One Lord is enough.

One way is enough.

And that is more than enough