Crossroads of the Soul: Choosing Faith When Trauma, Disappointment & Confusion Remain
By Sherita Jones | The Anointing Grace
There are moments in life where movement feels impossible. Not because we’ve stopped dreaming, but because we don’t know which way is safe.
I call it the 4 way stop of the soul.
You arrive here not by choice, but by circumstance. After enduring storm after storm, heartbreak after heartbreak, you find yourself stalled at an intersection where every road has a name.
Faith: You want to believe again, to move forward, to hope.
Trauma: The ache beneath the surface, whispering old fears.
Disappointment: The memories of unanswered prayers and failed expectations.
Confusion: The silent, gnawing uncertainty that asks, “What now, God?”
And you, beloved, are the one holding the wheel, heart full, engine running, unsure which turn leads to life and which one circles you back to pain.
But this isn’t just a delay. It’s a divine pause.
“Thus saith the LORD, Stand ye in the ways, and see, and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls. But they said, We will not walk therein.” Jeremiah 6:16 KJV
We Don’t Always Choose Trauma Consciously. Sometimes It Chooses Us by Familiarity.
Let’s be honest.
Sometimes we default to disappointment or trauma. Not because we love pain, but because it’s familiar. It doesn’t catch us off guard. We know what to expect.
But faith? Faith feels risky. Faith feels like exposure. Faith feels like hoping again, and that’s terrifying when you’ve barely recovered from the last letdown.
And so, in our survival, we build walls. Walls to keep hurt out, but they end up keeping hope out too.
That, my friend, is the evidence of an unhealed soul. Not a weak one. Not a disobedient one. A wounded one.
What Does an Unhealed Soul Do?
It chooses predictability over possibility. It assumes pain before promise. It prays but doesn’t expect. It worships but struggles to trust.
An unhealed soul doesn’t reject God, it fears what He might allow again.
Because you’ve believed before. You’ve fasted. You’ve stood in faith. And still, the rug was pulled out from beneath you.
So now faith feels like a trapdoor and disappointment feels like the safer seat.
But the truth is this, God isn’t asking you to pretend. He’s inviting you to return.
What If Faith Isn’t Gone, Just Bruised?
Let me whisper this to your weary soul, Faith isn’t dead. It’s waiting for your return. Trauma isn’t the driver anymore, it’s a passenger that needs healing. Disappointment has built walls, but they’re not made of stone. God knows how to break through. Confusion doesn’t mean you’re lost, it means He’s inviting you to lean not on your own understanding.
“He restoreth my soul” from Psalm 23:3 isn’t a poetic filler, it’s a lifeline.
It means God is returning your soul, your thoughts, emotions, and identity back to wholeness. Back to peace. Back to truth.
The Ancient Hebrew Word for “Restoreth”
שׁוּב – shuwb (Strong’s H7725)
To return. To bring back. To recover. To refresh
In ancient Hebrew picture language:
Shin (ש) – teeth, to consume/destroy
Vav (ו) – nail/hook, to connect
Bet (ב) – house/home/family
Together, it paints this picture:
“The One who destroys what broke you, connects you back to the house (His presence), and brings you home again.”
That’s restoration. Not a surface fix. A soul return.
What’s Blocking You From Choosing Faith?
The answer is likely fear. Because faith isn’t just belief. Faith requires vulnerability. For me, I couldn’t see past all the evidence of my past and my current experiences that tells me I’ll just end up hurt again. So FEAR will paralyze you, if you let it.
But God isn’t asking you to leap. He’s inviting you to inch forward. Just a step. Just a whisper of trust. Just one moment where you say: “Lord, I don’t know how, but help me believe again.”
Let Me Be Honest With You
I’ve lived in the intersection. I’ve sat in my car, spiritually parked, unable to move forward because I wrestled with faith that once burned bright but now flickers low. The scales have been removed from my eyes, so I know trauma, disappointment, and confusion is not the right path, but choosing faith feels like I’ll be hurt all over again.
And here’s what God helped me to see. Before the breakthrough, before the promises, before the restoration of things, God restores the soul.
Because if He gave you the promise while your soul was still fragmented, you’d either, worship the blessing instead of Him. Crumble under the weight of it. Or use the promise to medicate your pain instead of surrendering it.
What a Restored Soul Begins to Look Like.
Peace in the deep places. Trust that doesn’t require proof. Emotions that serve, not rule. Boundaries rooted in wholeness, not fear. Worship that flows from intimacy, not desperation
A restored soul breathes differently. It hopes without panic. It waits without spiraling. It trusts, even when it doesn’t understand.
So What Now?
You’re still at the stop sign. But the wind of God is stirring.
Here’s how to move forward. Acknowledge the intersection. Don’t pretend you’re not wrestling. Pray from the middle of it. You don’t need a polished prayer. You just need a surrendered one. Ask for restoration. Not just relief. Not just a breakthrough. Ask Him to do the deeper work. Don’t rush. Let Him whisper when it’s time to move. Don’t choose trauma again just because it’s predictable. Choose the road marked “Faith”even if you’re limping toward it. Faith may not feel safe yet, but it is holy. And it leads to healing.
You’re not broken beyond repair. You’re not too far gone to believe again. You’re not behind schedule, you’re at the starting line of restoration.
Even this blog. Even this moment. Even that whisper of “God, help me.” That was a step, and Heaven saw it.
“He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.”
Psalm 23:3 KJV
Not once. Not partially. But continually. Until the soul is whole. Until fear is no longer the compass. Until trauma no longer drives the choices. Until faith becomes your home again.
You can breathe again. You can believe again. You can begin again.
And the Shepherd will walk every step with you.
