Not My Story to Tell

Remember that scene in The Wedding Planner where Jennifer Lopez arrives at her house after a wedding and she makes a nice gourmet dinner with a glass of wine and eats it so perfectly will looking polished and poised?  That is what I expected my single years to look like.

A more accurate picture would be Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality when she gets home after a hard day, trips over a blanket, fights with the microwave with a combination Katherine Heigl having a meltdown over irrational things that have built up over time like in 27 Dresses with the sense of humor and passion over insignificant things like Leslie Knope in Parks and Rec.  I would definitely say that describes majority of my navigation through my twenties.

I recently was having a conversation with my kindred spirit, who unfortunately lives way to far away and I see her way less than I would like to.  I had just finished a weekend throwing a baby shower for one of my dearest friend only to return home and help throw a bridal shower.  Which was followed by a week where I was organizing getting a bridesmaid dress altered, sending baby gifts to a friend across the country, and filling out RSVP cards that had been laying abandoned on my dresser for weeks.

We were discussing that once again transitions were happening all around us but yet we are staying stagnant, doing the same thing we have always done.  We talked about how our greatest joy is watching out friends enter in a new season of life but somehow there is a balance because it can be our greatest sorrow.  It can break a person in ways they never expected.  The weight of comparison hit hard.  Then the conviction that when I compare, my eyes are on myself not the Lord.

There have been tears shed and heightened insecurity over the fact that my story is so different than those around me.  When I really start to get honest with myself, it isn’t that I don’t believe that God is good, because I know He is.  It is that there are times I believe that God is not good to me.  Faithful? Yes. Sovereign?  Yes. Good? Not so much.  I struggle with this because my idea of good looks different that the Creator of the Universe’s good.  The good He gives me is what I need, not what I want.  His good works together for good for His glory and He is always redeeming the broken story.

I want the tangible in the here and now.  In Hebrews 11:6 it talks about how He will reward those who seek Him and a lot of times I just want the Lord to move the mountain that I am asking Him to move.  But the reward is Jesus Himself, and togetherness with Him for eternity.  Not the things that I pray circles around, not the dreams, not the greatest desire of the heart.  But Jesus.  Only Jesus.

I say this all but I want you to hear my heart.  I am in a really sweet season of life right now.  I am back at a place for the summer that allows me to do what I am passionate about and in the fall I am getting the opportunity to live out a dream that  I shelved for years.  I am starting to feel a part of myself again that I have not felt in quite sometime.  I feel full of life and giddy at the months to come. I have friends-turned-family in town who would do anything than me.  My church is where I feel most at home and serving there makes my heart full joy. My parents are possibly the greatest people on the planet and are basically pretty wonderful and are along for the ride wherever adventure I go on.

But even in the sweetest of seasons, I still wrestle with doubt and insecurity.  To which I am learning insecurity is not just a self-esteem, it is anything I use to find my worth in that isn’t secure. Which by the way, the only thing that is score is Jesus.  Insecurity is where the brokenness of the world plays out in my life.

Getting married young and starting a family is not my story.  Finding my calling and career at 22 is not my story. Buying a house before 30 is not my story. A lot of things those around me have are not my story. I’ve persevered through my twenties with a story with Jesus at the center and that is the only story I want to live.  My story, although hard at times and will of dreams that may never come to fruition, (that whole sanctification thing), is pretty great because Jesus is good, even to me who is broken and a hot mess a lot of the time. My story is one to tell because it shows His faithfulness and goodness and redemption of a lost heart.


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