If I could be completely honest, I’d tell you I’m not okay.
I’d tell you I’m tired of throwing up nearly every day, sometimes multiple times a day.
I’d tell you I hate being exhausted constantly and feeling so zapped that I’m finding myself in bed by 7 on the regular.
I’d tell you I’m embarrassed by how “lost” I feel – how forgetful, disoriented, absent-minded I’ve been. It’s not me.
I’d tell you that I want whatever “this” is – be it anxiety, depression, some obscure medical condition, or just emotional exhaustion – to go away and give me back my life.
But I won’t be honest, because I don’t like sharing the truth. I don’t like revealing these facts because I hate them, and I know, if you were really honest, you don’t like hearing it. I mean, I don’t blame you. Negative Nancys aren’t fun. Thinking of myself as a Negative Nancy adds one more thing about my current situation that I hate. Nope. Keeping these truths close to my chest.
If I were completely honest, I’d tell you how guilty I feel that I have spent the first three decades of my life completely oblivious of the darkness some people live in. In my whole life, even when as a teen my parents split up, even in the brief time some years ago when I thought my marriage might be in trouble (it wasn’t really), even through the infertility, and even through the miscarriages, even in the scariest times of my life, I never really “got it” – I didn’t understand the suffering some people deal with. Y’all, it’s tough. It’s tough even with strong faith. It would be suffocating without faith.
So, while I might not be totally honest with you about how I really feel, let me tell you these things.
I will keep trucking.
I will keep praying, seeking, digging, grabbing for His holy robes, beating on His chest, reaching out to the only One who has the strength to support me through whatever this season is.
I will keep pushing.
And I will keep reminding myself of these truths :
I’m a good teacher who works her tail off and loves her students fiercely.
I’m a good mom who strives every day to raise well-mannered, well-adjusted, well-prepared kids who know and love the Father who created them, who have a solid sense of identity, and who know they are the greatest gifts in my life.
I’m a good wife and daughter, friend and family member.
I might not tell you the whole truth when you ask, “How are you?” – because “fine” might be all I have the time and energy to say. Even if “fine” might leave out a whole lot of detail, “fine” isn’t necessarily a lie. Times are tough, but I’m am fine. I certainly don’t feel great, physically or mentally, but I am fine even when I’m not okay, because none of this is stronger than the One who provides my strength. I know who I am. I know my flaws (there are many) and I know my mistakes and I’m real about my struggles. Those things, however, don’t define me or limit me or make me any less. Being “not okay” is fine.
I am chosen
I am who You say I am
You are for me
Not against me
I am who You say I am
When I start getting not-so-sure I’m fine, when doubt creeps in, or when I start questioning if I can get through this, Matt. 6 comes back. It’s been a verse that’s sustained me often, and more and more through this season of life or whatever this is. I return to these words:
Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can anyone of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
It doesn’t matter how “not okay” I am currently, how bad I’ve messed up, how terrible I feel, or how dark things seem, I know I’m fine because He loves me more than he does the sparrows.