Lost and Found.

I've lost myself.

I realized the other day that I don't recognize myself anymore. That who I was, and who I want to be, no longer exists. Over the past half-year, and probably longer, I've been losing bits of myself. A piece here and a piece there. Falling to places that I don't even know, but falling nonetheless. Some of the pieces I've probably given away to people who either didn't deserve them or didn't know what to do with them. Some of the pieces just changed their shape as I grew, and I haven't recognized them yet. Some of the pieces were broken off and shattered from pain and hard times. Whatever the reason or cause of my breaking, the fact remains that I'm broken. When I look in the mirror I don't know the person I'm looking at. I remember who she once was, and I can even remember who she wants to be, but I'm not sure who she is right now.

But there's good news. There is a part of me, deep down inside that is untouchable. A part of my heart that is the essence of who I am. And it cannot be reached by anyone; it cannot be taken or given away. It is still intact. So I guess I haven't really LOST myself, I've just lost sight of who I am. But there's even more good news. Jesus wants to put me back together. And He wants to show me who I am, who He created me to be. I just have to let Him.

His are higher.

Despite what it has felt like lately, I'm not alone.

He sees me.
He holds me.
He cries with me.

Even in the darkest of nights and the emptiest of moments, I am not alone. There is more to this moment, more to this pain, more to this life than I can see. Why? Because God is love. Because His promises reign true. Because He delights in me. Because He created me like this for a reason. Because He has a plan. Because He is in control. Because He knows it all. Because He can see it all. Because His ways are higher than mine.

__________________________________________

"I know what you've been going through
tears of pain are falling down
It hurts so bad you're crying out
Your problems won't last forever
Let Me put you back together."

__________________________________________

Last night I was hit from left field. Blindsided by the pain. Tortured by the memories. As the tears were falling uncontrollably, I reached out for my Bible. What did I find myself reading?

"The sovereign Lord will wipe away all tears." Isaiah 25:8.

a dichotomy of being.

Weeping.
Shaking.
Crying out.

I don't know where it comes from, so how am I supposed to make it stop?

More and more. The lies the enemy heaps on me are multiplying. But wait, my worth has nothing to do with it. I was enough--I am enough--I've always been enough.

Just leave me alone. But please, please don't go.
Stop looking at me like that, but don't ever drop your gaze.
That smile is killing me, but to never see it again would finish me.
Stop coming back to me, but don't ever leave my side.

Split in half.
Torn in every direction.
Wanting both.
Needing both.
Not knowing where to go from here.
Not knowing what I need.
I know I'll be okay.
I know everything will be okay.
I know because You told me.
But when?

------------------------------------------------

"Awaken what’s inside of me
Tune my heart to all You are in me
Even though You’re here God come
And may the vision of You
Be the death of me
And even though you’ve given everything
Jesus come."

200 percent?

One more semester.

Then.

One hundred percent of me wants to pick up and move somewhere completely new. To experience life in a way I've never known. To meet people I've never dreamed existed. To fall effortlessly into my future. To discover all that God's plan for my life entails.

But.

One hundred percent of me wants to stay where I am. Too afraid to leave behind everything I know. Unwilling to leave everyone I love. Too timid to fight for an entirely new existence. Too scared of failure. Unwilling, or unable, to face the fact that I have to grow up. Now.

So.

How am I supposed to make a decision when I'm one hundred percent leaning towards leaving and one hundred percent leaning towards staying? How am I even capable of making a decision like this when I'm one hundred percent torn?

Go home.

I feel exhausted. 20% is due to the fact that I haven't been getting an adequate amount of sleep, but the other 80% is because I feel like the life I've been living for the last few months is finally starting to catch up to me. I can't run anymore. Everything I've been running from is once again by my side. And the funny thing? I didn't even realize I was trying to outrun them. Or maybe I just wasn't willing to admit it to myself. Either way, they're here, and now there's nothing I can do to escape them. My energy is drained. My willpower is gone. And I know I shouldn't run anymore; I know it's time I face what it is I'm so afraid of.

I'm rarely ever home. I spend most of my days at my friends' house, surrounded by a sea of people. People with their own passions, their own concerns, and their own demons.

Somehow, it's easier to face theirs than it is to face my own.

Sometimes, as I'm sitting there, I wonder why I don't just go home. Then I remember. Going home means going back to the things I have to face. To the silence of my own bedroom. Silence is strange to me. Sometimes I crave it, I need it. Sometimes it's my silent moments that bring the most clarity. Most of the time, however, it's the silence that brings back the flood of emotions. The flood of memories. The floods of pain and tears. When I'm alone, when everything is quiet, that's when I remember what it is I'm trying to outrun. That's when I remember that I can't outrun it. That's when I remember life isn't like that; I have to face it. I have to get through it.

I don't like the silence. I don't like being alone. But maybe I have to force myself to be alone if I'm ever going to stop running.

Sit still.

The other day in church, my pastor came up to me during a quiet time of worship and asked to pray with me. Knowing that I would be an idiot to decline, I said, "of course." This turned out to be a good move on my part, because the words that he prayed over me were

exactly
what
I
needed
to
hear.

The main message of his prayer was for me to "stop striving."

In thinking about my future.
In preparing for my career.
In relationships.

I spend more time and energy dwelling on and worrying about these things than I do praying about them and giving them completely to God. Instead of trusting in Him and letting his blessings fall on me as a result of His unimaginable love for me, I try to chase after those blessings by making plans and using my own strength. Obviously...that never works. I am trying too hard. So I'm going to stop striving. I'm going to trust God to shower me with His plans. I'm going to sit still in His presence.

Effortless wandering.

Being brought to tears hasn't been a challenge for me in the last few days. This might not seem like an odd statement, but being someone who rarely ever cries, it's a rather strange thing. My tears are not tears of sadness, but more so tears of life. The most random things have been catching my focus, causing the wetness in my eyes to begin before I even realize what's going on.

Seeing someone laugh unexpectedly.
Watching a couple walk by, hand in hand, while in complete silence.
Reading an excerpt from a book that perfectly captures a feeling of desperation and loss.

I suppose I could sum up this behavior as being overly emotional, but "emotional" has never been a word used to describe me. I think, instead, these overwhelming moments are a result of my timing and place in life right now. Despite how much I deny the fact, I am nearing graduation of college and with that comes so many questions that cannot be answered. I feel like I can do absolutely anything when I graduate, and that's exciting. But I'm constantly struck by the fear of actually changing my life.

I'm torn.

There is so much I want, but so much I'm afraid of. I want something new and exciting and refreshing and challenging, but I don't know how to find that. Constantly striving to find purpose in my life, yet questioning whether or not I actually do anything of value. My extreme desire to make something of myself is making me much more sensitive to notice the little things that actually make up a life; causing me to wonder whether or not my life contains those things or if I'm leading a pointless existence. Like those moments of laughter, silent love, and loss.