I Was An Easy Kid
I was an easy kid, the good kid, the kid who understood the rules and followed them without question. Somewhere along the line I figured out that if I didn't rock the boat I wouldn't get in trouble. Somewhere along the way I decided that asserting myself was bad and going along with what everyone else wanted was good. Somewhere I made the decision that not getting what I wanted was better than putting myself out there and getting in trouble or rejected. I became the easy one who got along with everyone and made life a tad bit lighter for my parents.
Now I am an adult and being an "easy" adult doesn't seem to exist. Being an easy adult has felt spineless and passive. I struggle to be known and yet can hardly put a finger on who I am. When I do catch a glimpse into what I like or what I want, I stutter and stall, so scared that those things won't matter. Scared that they will make life harder on the people I love or even people I've never met, which feels like the end of the world. Sigh.
We all have our battles, but I do believe we are built to love and enhance each other. I am working hard to come to life after stuffing desires so deep they may as well be locked in a safe inside the most random organ in my body, like my appendix. I almost wish I could hire a surgeon to cut me open to find the grit, desire, and passion I was born with. But instead I'm working steadily with Jesus (and a counselor) to slowly knead out the knots in my soul. It's not pretty. I cry more than feels comfortable and the insecure/vulnerable places feel like they are seeping out from a cracked vase all of the time. But this work has to be done. I have to believe the "me" God made is worth the fight. I have to believe that looking and feeling a little crazy right now will bring more life, abundant life.
Our brokenness doesn't have to be hidden, but can point us and others to hope. Hope that there will be a small surprise that reminds you God is thinking of you today. Hope that hard days aren't defining days. Hope that experiencing true pain will allow space to experience true joy. And the truth that God sees our brokenness and says, "You, you are who I want."
Now I am an adult and being an "easy" adult doesn't seem to exist. Being an easy adult has felt spineless and passive. I struggle to be known and yet can hardly put a finger on who I am. When I do catch a glimpse into what I like or what I want, I stutter and stall, so scared that those things won't matter. Scared that they will make life harder on the people I love or even people I've never met, which feels like the end of the world. Sigh.
We all have our battles, but I do believe we are built to love and enhance each other. I am working hard to come to life after stuffing desires so deep they may as well be locked in a safe inside the most random organ in my body, like my appendix. I almost wish I could hire a surgeon to cut me open to find the grit, desire, and passion I was born with. But instead I'm working steadily with Jesus (and a counselor) to slowly knead out the knots in my soul. It's not pretty. I cry more than feels comfortable and the insecure/vulnerable places feel like they are seeping out from a cracked vase all of the time. But this work has to be done. I have to believe the "me" God made is worth the fight. I have to believe that looking and feeling a little crazy right now will bring more life, abundant life.
Our brokenness doesn't have to be hidden, but can point us and others to hope. Hope that there will be a small surprise that reminds you God is thinking of you today. Hope that hard days aren't defining days. Hope that experiencing true pain will allow space to experience true joy. And the truth that God sees our brokenness and says, "You, you are who I want."
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