Over the past
few months I have discovered a lot about myself that I wasn't quite prepared
for. Mostly that I think I am capable of singlehandedly taking on the world and
never messing up. I had created this perfect place in my head where if I fell
short of my standard for myself I had no purpose anymore. This
"perfect" world allowed me to take care of myself, because “I don't
need any help." This led me to
another discovery. I would cringe every time I let myself say "I'm
ok" whenever someone asked how I was doing. I would much rather say,
" great! " or "my life is wonderful" herby proving that I
can take care of myself and everything is dandy is Suzy's perfect world. But
there is a problem with this. My life
wasn't, isn't, dandy. It's hard. It's
messy. I'm prideful. I'm ashamed. I constantly fall short of my expectations
day after day. And because I think I'm capable of doing everything by myself I
slowly and surely build walls up around me that even the largest battering ram
cannot penetrate. But behind those walls I am feeble, and I am scared. No one
tells you how to be an adult. It's something we can only learn from experience.
But it all honesty, those experiences are starting to make me numb. How long
can a human go, by themselves, before the walls are broken but they realize in
that moment that they aren't staring at an army but are actually completely
alone. Because for so long the battle that they thought they were fighting
turns out to be themselves. Alone, and very small among all the ruble. It's
easy for my thoughts to ramble, however the biggest awakening I am starting to
unveil is how helpless I am, over and over again. And how it's ok to say "I'm ok"
because that's not a bad answer. It's simply the truth. Am I breathing? Yes.
But is life difficult? Yes. I'm ok. I somehow survived and I am climbing out of
the ruble with more understanding even amidst the mess. I am not perfect. I am
not humble. I am not at peace. But I am ok. Because I serve Yahweh. I serve my
gracious father who so generously pulls me up when I discover my weaknesses,
who so humbly patches my wounds that I created from myself. He asks me
"how are you? And I answer "I'm ok." And he doesn't ask
"are you sure!?" He knows. And I am thankful. Seasons are
interesting. And this particular season in my life has been more challenging in
ways I could have never planned for. So I will trudge on, with battle wounds
and feelings of defeat. But I will thank my father for loneliness as we walk
hand in hand and he shows me his faithfulness.
My life is not perfect and that is ok.
