For me, writing and blogging has to be this "whole," completed thing. I have to have a lesson and have learned it and maybe after reading it, others can draw from it too. Because that's how it goes, right? I struggle, I tell you the story, and then tell you how God prevails, etc etc etc.
Well, I don't feel like that. I haven't felt like I have that. A "thing" to share with you all that the Lord has so triumphantly pulled me through. I feel like I'm not at a place to write what I've been learning. Because there's been so much. And I don't think I quite know what the lesson is just yet. Maybe there isn't even a lesson right now.
But I still feel the pull to write.
I get upset because I can't write. I get upset because I feel like I have nothing to write about. I get upset because I don't have a resolution. I get upset because I feel like my trials are insignificant. I get upset because I feel like no one cares, like no one can relate, like I am very little.
I notice everyone else's nice words to each other on social media. A long heartfelt post here, a lengthy thankful photo caption there. Your photos of you and your friends laughing. Your party you're at. You having the best time you've ever had.
I get angry. So silently angry at you. That your life looks better than mine. I harbor bitterness. Hey, didn't mine used to look good? Didn't I have everything sort of figured out? Wasn't I the one that people looked up to?
What have I done to not receive these things? Should I keep in better contact with my friends? Did I isolate myself? Should I have not chosen to work 8-5 all week? Should I have chosen an easier job, where I can watch netflix and still be considered on the clock?
Why does it seem like I'm the only one? Why do I care what people put on facebook and instagram and twitter and every other stupid social media site? Do I actually have qualities to offer that someone might notice and positively point out? Why do I feel like I need that?
...Who am I?
Harboring bitterness? Those words have never, ever defined me. Lots of change has happened, but I didn't think I would feel "bitter." I hate even writing that word. I hate writing any of these words down at all. I hate the fact that I even let them cross my mind. I'd like to just keep them in my heart and let them simmer there. The last thing I'd want to do is write a blog post and proactively put it out there for people to read. (hah.) I'm afraid people don't want to know what going on with my heart because they won't be interested. Because my life is too irrelevant now.
I realize this is the enemy, literally filling my head with lies. Sometimes I like to believe them.
But this is good for me to do. To write this all out. To process.
I don't know what my resolution is. Only Jesus does. But all I know is, the encourager still needs to be encouraged. All I am really doing is trying–Trying to figure out what adult life is, what life is at all, what my place is right now. And that's wearing me down.
I'm glad for the valley. But the uphill trek feels exhausting.
This is my prayer–That Jesus would heal me and I would be whole, looking to Him for everything. For Him to reveal to me what makes me the person that I am. Why I'm special and why I am worth loving.
I know He will– He always does.
God is greater than my heart. He knows everything. (1 John 3:20)
I'm excited to see what's ahead. I'm excited to learn and to grow. Even if it takes hard steps along the way.