Its Ok to be Ok.

         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.