Today I’m posting something I didn’t write specifically for here. It is a self -evaluation of sorts, which leaves much unexplored, but it says enough, I think.
I hastily scribbled today: “A mess by any other name is Veronicah.” [Actually, I wrote my real name, but anyways…] So true. It seems that most teens have permission to flounder and rebel before coming to solid faith, but I have not given myself that permission. So I linger somewhere in no man’s land, loving the tortured characters, possibly more than the Church, and guiltily beating myself up for my many failings.
I live, not in the sure fire intimacy with God of my earlier years, but not in a state of outright rebellion either. People see in me what they want to see. They define me, though I hardly know how to define myself. Francis Chan said I should crucify my flesh, but I am not sure that I’m doing that. Some others said that I need to take away the stones (myself) in the cup so I can add more water (God). I’m not sure if I’m doing that either.
Instead I’m living day to day, reading the Word, and trying to live in the moment. Some nights I feel God more than others. Many nights I pray for the hurting souls. Occasionally I pray for myself. I fail, and I cry, and I am not the model Christian. I struggle to say “Blessed be the name of the the Lord.” in all circumstances, and often I lash out when I feel abandoned. I don’t listen to God or others enough. I don’t know what is in my future.
Often, my sustenance and healing are found in music and story instead of Jesus. I don’t turn there right away. I am “a mess by any other name”, the muddled child of so many different influencers, so I will embrace the art and ask God to keep working in His mysterious way.