I am sad, and I am struggling.
I am sad that I am not married. I don’t have the “privilege,” as I heard it called the other day, of being someone’s wife. I don’t have the joy of sharing my life with someone. I am not someone’s best friend. I am alone.
I am sad that I am not a mother – that God hasn’t chosen me to bring a little life into the world, or to adopt a little life he’s already created and mother it. I know that adoption can be an option for me someday, and it’s one I am thankful for, but still. It’s sort of an unknown and a maybe. It’s not now.
I am sad that I am not stronger in the face of these disappointments – and that I count them disappointments at all. Why can’t I consider them pure joy, as the Bible commands? Why do I struggle so with giving them over to Jesus? Why do I waver so much on my committment to Him? I can’t answer. I can’t.
I am sad that I lost my uncle this week. I am sad that I can’t say for sure that I know he’s in heaven. I can’t say for sure he’s not, either, but the fact is – I don’t know. And I am sad that I don’t know. I am sad for that.
I am sad that my life isn’t what I thought it would be 10 years ago. I feel like I am living in a cloud – that I am just moving from day to day, from stage to stage, and I am missing it. Isn’t that silly? I feel like I am just out of reach of the life I wish I had.
I don’t say all this to bum y’all out…I guess I just say it to get it out there. There’s a Nichole Nordeman song, Even Then, that says, “So I put aside this masquerade and admit that I am not okay.” I guess that is what I am trying to do here. Just admit the truth. Because believe me – hiding it doesn’t make it any less true.