This morning, I overheard a conversation I wasn’t meant to hear – one that hit at the very core of my insecurities as a child, a daughter, a human being. It triggered one of my deepest fears: never being enough.
I’ve been living my entire life trying to prove that I’m good enough, smart enough, acceptable enough, talented enough… Every single time, I fell short. It seemed that at every phase of my life, I just didn’t measure up.
After hearing said conversation, my mind went on overdrive as I tried to sort out my emotions, which was quickly building fortresses that would put China’s Great Wall to shame. Defenses up.
This is my sad reality.
Thirty years in this world, and I have nothing. I am nothing. Every attempt at success has been met with stinging – often humiliating – failure. I looked into the future and saw the many ways I was going to fail. Why even try? Why do it? Why not just keel over and die? This cynicism rose up within me as I began to question my own existence. I felt like the sad sap being sent to run into the distance, so I can turn into some great warrior’s moving target practice. I felt like I was neither the arrow, nor the bow. Nope. I was the target.
Obviously, I had to snap out of this mindset, because come on, reading that, it’s depressing, right?
I took a looooong walk, entered some random coffee shop, saw people I knew, said a quick hi to them, left and found another coffee shop, about six kilometers away from home. The entire time I was walking, my shuffled playlist blared random songs in my ear. A song lyric hit me at around kilometer 4.
On Your promise I will stand. All other ground is sinking sand.
I remembered His promise to me in Isaiah 66:13:
As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you; And you shall be comforted in Jerusalem.
I’m planning to live in Israel for a year next year. I frowned. I wonder how I’m gonna screw that one up too, I thought. I walked on. At around my 6th kilometer, another song lyric stood out.
Failure to Excommunicate.
Jesus loved the outcasts.
He loves the ones the world just loves to hate.
As long as there’s a heaven,
There’ll be a failure to excommunicate.
That’s when it kinda sorta hit me:
What on earth am I whining about? All of it is true! I am the least among all. I’m a ragamuffin, a screw-up, a misfit, a sinner. Everything I’ve touched has turned into ashes. The world will never love me!
And yet He chose me. In fact, that’s probably why He chose me!
Right now, I’m sitting in some random coffee shop like a privileged, entitled millennial, whining to Him over something that I’ve always known to be true. And now, I’m snickering over how much I need to get over myself.
For the past three years, He’s always told me, “You and Me, kid. You and Me.” And I hold on to Him for a while, walk with Him for a while. Then eventually, I try to stray off the narrow path. I try to grasp at things that I hope will fill this ache within me that only He can fill.
But I keep coming to the same place: my need for Jesus.
I realize as I’m sitting here like a moping idiot, sipping on a mixed berry smoothie, it’s always been “You and Me, kid. You and Me.”
I will never be excommunicated, because I’m with Him. And I can hold on to His promise that indeed, I will be comforted in Jerusalem.
As a mother comforts her child. Me. Like a child. The least of these.
Isn’t that what the kingdom of God is all about?
“You and Me, kid. You and Me,” He continues to whisper in my ear as He once again leads me into the unknown.
Hopefully, as I learn to stand on His promises, as I once again follow Him into a brand new adventure, with every step taken, the journey will be more Him than me.
What can I say? smiles laughs He’ll get me there.
For now, I stand and hold on to Him.
“You and Me, kid. You and Me.”