"I admire anybody who has the guts to write anything at all." -E.B. White

Sunday, April 19, 2015

culmination of many a challenge

I happened upon "Pieces" by Meredith Andrews. It happened to speak to me in more ways than one. Here it goes:

Feeling like you're alone, like you don't belong
And you won't be loved if you don't measure up

TWO of the biggest things I'm learning my sophomore year of college. I do feel alone (maybe it's because I am roommate-less. I am 3/3 for not keeping a roommate longer than a semester.) But I feel alone in my struggle. I feel alone in the fight. I feel like I don't belong at either college I've attended, I don't feel like I belong on my floor, in my parents' house, or on my soccer team. I feel like there is just no place for me in this big, big world. AND I have been learning that "love is not performance-based" and that I can be loved. no. matter. what. I grew up under the misconception that I had to work to be loved. I had to have acceptable hair, normal clothes, good grades, and a smile on my face. When I didn't have one of those, I didn't think I would continue to be loved. I'm learning. Learning takes time. 

And you wear your scars
Like they're who you are

That's unfortunately true... I wear scars from my ACL surgery, I wear self-inflicted scars, and I wear scars from falling off my bike. I walk around acting like those things define me. I am more than those things! Those are things that have happened to me and things I have experienced. Those are in no way who I am... they just made me who I am. (Cue the previous post) I am a loved Child of God. I am a new creation. I am not my choice or my circumstances. I am new. 

Give Him your wounds, your bruised and broken pieces
All your questions, all your secrets
You don't have to hide who you are
You belong to someone greater
Than all your past mistakes and failures
Rested who He is
He knows how to make your pieces fit

I have so many questions about this life. "What if" and "How about this" and "Why why why" Don't you? I have less secrets every day, because I'm on my journey to living an honest, open-book kinda life -- but there are still many layers uncovered. I don't have to hide who I am. I am FREE to be me. I am free to let the world know the real Terrin. You know why? Because I belong to God. I am his beloved child. My God is a conqueror of sin, death, and shame. He gives me a new identity. I just have to rest in loving embrace. He is holding me. I merely need to rest in that hope and live in my new identity. Live... loved!

And He won't run away if you show your heart
Wants you to believe it
You can taste that freedom

For many a year, I was terrified to open up about my struggle. I was scared to let people know of the dark things hidden in my heart. I didn't want people to see the scary side of my deepest thoughts. I wanted to hide. But God has called me to freedom, and oh, what freedom there is in the knowledge of unconditional love! God's grace has washed over me, and I let him was me clean. My innermost fear, my grossest sin, my ugliest cry, my oddest quirk.....I remain loved. What freedom there is in knowing and believing that life-giving truth. 

You are completely known
You are completely loved

This is where you belong

1 Corinthians 13:12 - just blogged about this, too. DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN? God just put like seven different lessons He was teaching me into one song. Craziness. God sees where I am now, and though I have no direction of my own, I am completely known. My mirror is fogged, and I can't see the staircase ahead of me, but God knows. One day, I will see Him face to face. I can rest in the assurance that He knows - fully. I am completely loved - through everything. And I belong right here, right now. (Another post - John 12:27-28a ) This time and moment was meant for me. I am supposed to be here. I am experiencing the beautiful struggle of what it means to be a light in this dark world. This is where I belong. This is not my home, as I walk this weary land, right here, right now, this is where I belong.

No comments:

Post a Comment