Just Cant Fake It...

I haven’t been wanting to blog because I don’t have anything uplifting to write about and I get annoyed with myself at the thought of posting yet another blog about being lonely and lost in the world. But then I think back to a few weekends ago.

I was camping with students for our fall leadership retreat (where I learned that even though it’s a deep desire of mine, I am not a camping person). Anyways, us girls were sitting in an open field chatting when a mom and 3 kids walk by us. Just then she says, “Ok, lets see who’s the fastest! GO!” 2 of the children take off like rockets but the 3^rd  (who’s prob 4 years old) stays behind and says with the sweetest little raspy voice, “well I know I’m the tired-est!”

It made me laugh but then I thought….man, how honest! This kid doesn’t want to be included if it means being disingenuous, he doesn’t want to run when his body is telling him to walk, he doesn’t want to fake it when everything in him says ‘be real!'

He has been my picture and standard for vulnerability.

Around me I hear, “life’s great!” “I love my boyfriend!” “I’ve never felt a clearer call!”

If there’s a race goin on, everyone around me seems to be running...

But me: “well…I know I’m the tired-est!”

I can’t fake it. Life kinda sucks. When I get home from work I usually pour myself a bowl of cereal (gourmet and nutritious)  sit on my bed (because my apartment is not yet furnished) and fight back tears. Or I gather every ounce of strength I have to pursue community and friendship only to sit and watch hand holding and listen to talks of weddings and romantic dates! It kills me up because I absolutely love love and I want to be someone who advocates for it and who is about it but my current state makes me want to shoot happy couples in the face with a BB gun!

And as annoyed as I am with myself, and as much as I wish I could run…my body screams at me: “WALK! Don’t fake it!”

And as hard as that is, I’m encouraged by this idea of vulnerability, of being present where I'm at, of what the pastor I heard tonight calls 'pain stewardship': sharing and letting others into your deepest hurts… 

as I write I look up to see my favorite poster, which says:

“The Gospel According to Tacoma:

Let the good news go out that you don’t need to pretend your heart is not broken.

That you are not alone in your suffering.

You are not alone

You are not alone

You are not alone

Let everyone hear the good news and press into it.”

I will not pretend. Even in my lowest lows, even in my girliest insecurities, even through my most stubborn thoughts and despite Satan's cruelest lies…I am broken. I am hurting. I am weak. And yet…I am not alone.

I am not alone.

I am not alone.

I am not alone.