It is late. You should never blog when it is late. However, I am compelled to write. Since authorial urges have diminished in recent months; I must write.
Compelled to organize my room, I push pins into the wall to hang my growing collection of necklaces. I am overcome with a deep sense acceptance. Often, in my life I have felt rejected. Even when accepted, I wait for that moment where the tides would recede and affections would cease. I wait for a joke to fall flat or an insult to go to far and everyone walking away. Classic middle child, I never fit into my family. Sometimes, I still don’t. Perhaps, that is for the best. When, not feeling rejected, I simply felt invisible. How could people ever see me? I could not even see me. I didn’t care if they saw me. I just wanted to be known. No one knew me.
I transferred these thoughts to God. God, who is personal, became, God: distant, obscure, hidden. I lay on my bed bellowing silent prayers, hoping He would see me. While fearing, that if He did, He would reject me. Pushing pins in the wall, I was reminded of that. I was brought back into that space of fear and sorrow. Maybe it was anxiety. Maybe the enemy. I cried.
As the tears began their descent, I quickly heard the Father tell me, “You are accepted.” Obviously, I cried harder. However, it wasn’t just that in this moment God told me He accepted me. It is the fact that God would change me so much. He accepted me and altered me…for the good. I am not who I was. That fourteen year old who felt like the ugliest and biggest joke is not who I am. I don’t identify with her.
Gratitude. At the end of this it is all I have. Gratitude.