Today I was at the dollar store to buy a poster board for a group project, and a guy passing me smiled this huge smile, and then told me that I had a beautiful smile. And I find that weird, because smiling hurts my cheeks but I just can’t seem to contain it, but I try to because I’m not happy and am genuinely afraid of making eye contact with people, as if they can see through my soul and all of the shattered pieces.
But am I broken? I don’t know. It definitely seems like it sometimes. I can’t seem to do anything right, and I’m sick of trying. I feel misplaced everywhere, because I am not normal, and I don’t belong anywhere or with anyone. I feel sad that I don’t completely fit in, though I love everyone. My days have been so off lately, and I’ve just been so unsatisfied with every aspect of my life. What is missing?
Nothing should be missing. My life may not be Instagram worthy, but I have pretty amazing experiences that are so unique to me. Then why do I feel so empty? Is it because I’m selfish and am working so hard for nothing? Is it because the biggest challenge is not my devotion and effort, but believing in God? Because we are not supposed to shake the chains of our sins on our own. We’ll never win that way.
So what am I doing wrong? Shouldn’t I be fulfilled living this life full of crazy God moments and people? Because I’m not. Is Satan attacking me because I’m doing this right? Probably. Is it worth it to live the good life if Satan is going to attack you all the time if you do?
Why am I not allowed to go to prom? Is it because my parents think I’m a terrible person? Or maybe they just don’t want me to feel beautiful. Or they think it’s stupid that prom will make me feel beautiful, because it won’t. Why don’t I feel beautiful? Because I have eczema, because I’ve never liked myself. Maybe they don’t want me to go because they don’t want me to be normal. They want me to be that stupid girl with wire glasses who can’t do anything, when that is not who I am. Maybe inward beauty doesn’t exist in me, because I am a feckless mess. Why am I a feckless mess when I have so much to be grateful for? What is wrong with me? Why can’t I honor a word my parents say?
Why do I cry so much? Maybe God has a better plan. Am I smart enough? I don’t get anything in school right now. Why do I have eczema? Because God had used it so much. God has used all of my experiences, but that doesn’t make them hurt any less. Who am I? Because I don’t know this girl. The girl I know isn’t broken. She is clumsy but capable, beautiful but incomplete.
You raise the broken to life. You mend them. But I never feel mended, ever. I know I have a purpose; but it hurts a lot. Give me the strength to keep going. Make me humble enough to stop thinking I’ve earned what I have, when I didn’t. Answer my questions God, let me wrestle with you.