I have no idea who I am.
"What can I get for you?" If there's anything in this world that I have learned, it's that being in a bar on a Tuesday night is the exact same as putting on a name tag that says, "Help. I am broken." There's nothing more pathetic than trying to make alcohol your friend, trying to drown out the loneliness and hurt, refusing to accept that somewhere off in the distance, out the door, and around the corner, there may be a little bit of hope for you. Sometimes, hope is too hard to hold onto.
Before I could answer, I heard a familiar voice from behind me, "When are you going to learn?" I turned around, laughed, wrapped my arms around my friend's neck, and smiled… "Of course YOU, of all people, would be here."
He signaled for the bartenders attention and said, "She'll take a water." We both laughed as he took a seat next to me. "So, tell me about how hard your life is… I've been waiting for some good 'Tedi' stories."
There were a thousand things running through my head. I had just barely survived the day without breaking a nail, I was fighting with my best friend, refusing to talk to my family, and mentally, I was standing at a crossroads, low on faith, and even lower on patience. "I hate everyone." was the only thing I could get out before tears welled up in my eyes.
There was silence for a few minutes. The bartender stood at the other side of the bar, pouring a drink for an older man, while casually talking about the Cardinals. There's just something about bars that have never really appealed to me, maybe it's the clinking of the glass bottles, the squeaking of the barstools, the smell of cigarettes, or the coldness of the room… but in that moment, all of those things were more welcome in my life than the advice of anyone else--especially him.
"You know… I think somewhere along the line you got turned around and screwed up, you lost your footing, got angry and stopped believing in something you know deep down is the answer." He fell silent and we both stared off into space, sitting side by side on barstools in a nearly empty bar. "God loves you sitting on this chair just as He loves you sitting on a pew. He knew you would wind up here and still, He sent Jesus to the cross."
Truthfully, his words made me angry. "God doesn't love me!" I snapped back, knowing there was absolutely no truth in the words I said. Anyone that knows me well knows that when backed into a corner, teeth and nails come out and I willingly create paths of destruction to avoid dealing with the real problem at hand.
Deep down, I know God loves me. I've been taught that since I was a child. Love is not the problem, because I know it's there, waiting for me to realize and accept it. I might not understand why, I might question it on a daily basis, but I do know it's there…
The problem is me. I am impossible. I am unbelievably lost and scared of facing a world that I don't even know how to be a part of, I am confused, unwilling to give up control, afraid of getting hurt, and terrified of disappointing everyone I love. I hate that I am 23 years old and I have absolutely no idea what my future holds.
THIS ISN'T HOW I PLANNED THINGS. I want to stomp my feet, throw tantrums, and scream away the hurt. I want to push every single person away, including God, simply because I hate that I am no where closer to figuring God out than I was as an eight year old sitting through VBS learning all about the ABC's of Christianity.
Do you even see me, God? Why would you put me on this earth without a purpose? Where are you, God? Why can't I feel you? Why can't I see the bigger picture? Why does life have to be this hard? Why haven't you reached down and rescued me? Why won't you help me figure you out, why can't I understand?
Honestly, I want to be my own savior. I want to do things on my own, but I know that I can't. I know Jesus is the answer, the only answer, but my flesh fights against my heart, craving the promises of the world.
… But still, in the middle of my hopelessness, in the middle of the night, I am reminded that God is so much bigger than I give Him credit for. His love for me is so great that I will probably never be able to wrap my head around it, but it's still good. His love is good, whether I acknowledge it or ignore it, whether I sit in a lonely bar, or worship Him in the biggest church, whether I run away or whether I choose to battle against the storm. His love is good… and his love is constant.
… and if God is all I have, his love is enough.
"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
-Isaiah 41:10
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