Gracebug

So, First of all, I’d like to apologize to my devoted reader(Rebekah). Sorry I haven’t been updating y’all on my life! To say life has been crazy would be an understatement. You know that whole “easy semester” thing I was talking about at the beginning of the school year? Yeah Idk what happened to that. Oh wait, yes I do! It’s called over-scheduling. From Youth group to Worship team to Show choir to teaching piano lessons to teaching a bible study, life has been crazy hectic around here. But who cares, right? I’m worshiping God with my actions, and God wants my fingers in all these pies.

First of all I would like to address some things I talked about in my last (real) post. I talked about the woman with the issue of blood and how I wished I could just touch Jesus’ robe and be healed. Well…. guess what!!! Idk if I would strictly say “I have been healed” but I went off all my meds thinking that if I’m going to trust in God that he’s healed me then I’m going to operate in that. That means no more meds. I’ve been off of them for a couple weeks now and so far it’s been pretty good. I haven’t ripped anybody’s heads off yet and my family has been really understanding. We(I) have been communicating about how I feel so I think that helps.

Secondly I’d like to address my complete and total lack of memory. I can’t remember what I did last week…. Tuesday… Blank. Can’t remember. I also can’t remember why I’m writing this post in the first place. I had a goal for this post, but I’ve lost it… I blame senioritis.

Thirdly…

remembering….

remembering……

remembering……..

Yeah! Cream Puffs.

If I remember I’ll write a new post.

Song for the day: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_fuZdtdVP5o

Sometimes life is just a massive sucker-punch. The say senior year is so much better and that there’s a whole new world that opens up, a world full of endless possibilities and nonexistent restrictions. well… It’s not true. At least not in my experience.

For me Senior year has been responsibility and unbelievable amounts of stress.

No, not from the actual school part of it (haha). Senior year has been the easiest of all four years so far. I would even venture to say my easiest ever. I’m not learning anything new…. My hardest classes are GOPO(repeat of 9th grade civics) and AP French(Review of French 1-4). Honestly my biggest academic obstacle right now is reading Roald Dahl’s The Witches, which is a terrifying children’s story that, in movie format, would be rated ‘R’ and classified as ‘horror’.

No, the real sucker-punch is me. Just me.

See, as a Senior in high school, I am already being treated for medical problems. And most of my problems are just because I am who I am. I can’t help the fact that I have back pain and muscle tension because of the body God gave me. I can’t help that I’m taller then most girls and don’t have the blood volume to operate efficiently. I can’t help it that I have a severe pain problem…. And all of this adds up to dollar signs that I can’t afford.

Especially not with college breathing down my neck.

I did very well on the ACT. but it isn’t good enough. Because I don’t know how I’m going to pay for college. Yeah I have the capability to pay for college. but not all the other things being thrown at me. Medication, dr’s visits, ultrasounds, xrays… surgery. As a senior in high school it is finally dawning on me that one day my parents aren’t going to take the bill for all that stuff.

And yeah, I’m over-reacting and looking way into the future and making a mountain out of a mole-hill and all that stuff, but I can’t help but feel like a burden on society…. and when I get oodles of letters from colleges that look at me as a number and not an individual, I can’t help but feel like a drop in the bucket. The one leaf that fell on the perfect lawn. I feel like “That person”.

But what hurts the most is that I didn’t do anything to cause this.

I was born this way. This was all “Fate”. I can’t help but question God’s sovereignty. God’s plan. If He loves me so much, why was I born this way? Why is anyone born this way? I’ve heard in the song “We pray for healing, but love was way too much to give us lesser things.” I know in my head that in the end this is what is best for me, but like doubting Thomas I can’t believe it in my heart until it’s right before my eyes. I can’t rest until I know in my bones that it’s true.

And now I wonder when God’s promise stopped being good enough?

Maybe the reason why I’m going through hardship is to solidify in my mind how much I need God. Yet in a time when I want action, I’m just getting that still small whisper and I’m too anxious to hear it.

I wanna be healed.

I want to be the woman in the crowd that touched Jesus’ robe and was healed instantly. But sometimes it doesn’t happen that way. Sometimes You have to live in pain. Sometimes you have to be “That person”.

In a time of decision making, it seems I don’t have a choice.

I guess I just have to wait.

So it’s finally May, eh? I have three weeks of school left, and they’re going to take forever to go by. Last week felt like a month simply because I had so much on my mind I could hardly help but rip my hair out every five seconds.

There’s nothing to make you hate your life quite like the promise of things to come. I feel like I kid waiting for Christmas. Summer…..

Now, Rebekah, before you get off your rocker about the title of this post…. I will remind you of a conversation we had about discretion…. I really wish I could tell you all about a lot of stuff…. But considering this is NOT a diary, and this blog is actually accessable to everyone on the interwebs, I will not share my deepest darkest secrets that have been nagging the inner-crevices of my mind. But I will tell you that keeping secrets is one of the hardest things for me to do.

Yes, I admit it, I’m a blabber-mouth….. I mean about my own personal stuff, not anything you tell me.

For our school’s post-secret craze I had to come up with a secret that I’d never told anyone. Yeah, I missed the deadline for thinking too hard. But enough of talking about my secrets that I’m not sharing.

I’m overloaded on thoughts, so I will try to get just one of them out. This past week I’ve been thinking a lot about the kind of person a want to be. Which I revisit this subject a lot…. probably because it’s constantly changing.

When I was a Freshman in high school a mere, good lord, three years ago(ish) I was determined to be a strong independent christian woman who never did anything wrong. Well, who knows who they want to be at 14 anyway? I wanted to be a strong independent christian woman at 14, and now at 17 I realize that that hasn’t completely changed…. what has changed is my definition of strong independent and christian.

I went to prom on saturday. I danced, I laughed, I made some jokes, I danced some more, I flirted with my hips, and I don’t regret any of it. As a Freshman I never would have dreamed of doing what I did on Saturday. That doesn’t mean I did anything wrong…

Lately I’ve been making a lot more friends of the male persuasion. And I’m not the ugliest girl at EHS. For the first time in my life I have some legit options. and for the second time in my life I’m faced with the question “Do I want to go there.” Last time my answer was no(Just ask John- If he remembers, that is!- Point for Grace. Excellent choice, my dear!) but this time I’m not sure what my answer is.

For the longest time I wanted to be that girl who is out conquering the world one day at a time. I do it alone, without need of rhyme or reason, I go, I conquer.

But now I am obviously more mature. And I realise there’s one thing I need. God. and the more I realise I need God, the more I realise that I don’t want to even try it on my own. I want to be the supporting actress, not the lead. call it a woman’s prerogative, call it the mothering instinct, call it whatever you will, but it’s kicked in. And I have never wanted to be out and ready more in my life.

And what’s wrong with someone telling me I’m a needle girl in a haystack world? Isn’t that the simplest of compliments a woman can get? I’m stuck in the middle part. where there’s no one there to boost the ol self esteem. And I’m not willing to get it the way everyone else does? Who is the douche that decided we had to do it on our own through high school? Who decided that teenaged women don’t need pampering? you neglect your girls and then turn around and wonder why teen pregnancy is such a problem? I’m not going to lie, I don’t feel like I’m in a loving protective environment. (Thinker vs Feeler alert. Bekah, don’t complain about the phrasing.)

::bunny trail:: you know what the worst part about thinker personality types is? They are constantly asking the feeler(moi) to stop being so emotional and see it from their point of view, like rationale is so much more important that feelings. They’re both subjective. Just because you perceive something to be fact doesn’t mean that’s what it is! Osama Bin Ladin saw it as fact that christians are infidels. That doesn’t mean we are! See, I feel that Osama Bin Ladin was an unkind person. That’s a sixth sense type thing going on there. And frankly my perception of Bin Ladin is probably closer to reality then his perception of me. And his was based on “cold hard fact”. And I just have a really weird feeling about it. I never read a personal account of someone saying that Osama was a mean person. Granted, he did mastermind an attack on my nation, but some people rob banks and whatnot and they’re the nicest people in the world, they just like money. so yeah. tangent over.

So what’s wrong with high school dating? okay, fine, scroll back to my post about it stating that I hate it and if I ever try to do it you have permission to slap me…. bla bla bla. rights revoked. I want to make this decision on my own, ya kno? times change. and things are changing a lot round here. I don’t know who to believe at this point. oh wait, yes I do. And It’s God. and I think he’s got a plan through all this change. some crazy amazing plan that he just isn’t telling me about. kinda like how I’m not telling my secrets in this post…. just getting some thoughts out….

So pretty much it’s Easter. Happy Easter.

This past week my brother has been on boot leave (yay!) and pretty much it’s been fun. But honestly, it will never be the same around here. I don’t think I like the new norm. Ya know? Maybe it’s just end of year blues, but I think it’s more then that. I don’t feel useful where I’m at. I”m not content with the lot that has fallen on my shoulders. I don’t want to be who I am at this point. I want to be a normal teen girl who breaks curfew and dates jerks and gets a C in a class every once in a while.

Yeah, I got a 30 on the ACT. and it would be a lie to say I’m not proud of it. Because I am. I am so stinkin proud I got a 30 on the ACT. I’m not bragging. but considering that I have worked all my life to measure up to regents scholars and honor roll members and deans list members and doctors and dietitians and novelists and biochemical engineers… I’ve tried and tried to be as smart as my older siblings. I’ve followed a precedent of doing everything right. and frankly, I’ve already screwed that up. I’m not perfect. I have situational depression. I have been clinically diagnosed with anxiety. I’ve made some really really bad choices in my life, trusted some people I shouldn’t have trusted, thrust myself into that “dysfunctional” category. Everyone thinks I’m so smart, when really, I’m just as smart as the next person… and compared to my elder siblings, I’m nothing special. Granted I plopped my ACT score right in the middle of the spray, but when normal kids come in with their ACT scores and they just happened to be all 30s their families are jumping up and down screaming and kissing each other. Not in my family. Mind, this isn’t a criticism of my family, I didn’t get the highest score that my family has ever seen. And that’s my point. I don’t measure up. In the eyes of my family I’m average.

But here’s where the issue comes in. In my eyes I’m a freak of nature. By all rights I should be happy with my grades, my ACT score, my academic letter and bars… But I’m not. And maybe that’s because I set too high of standards, or people put too high of expectations on me, but honestly, I could get straight A+’s and get all the awards and recognitions and all that fun stuff that our society says is the best…. and I still would be striving towards something better.

Cuz I don’t belong here.

I don’t know where I belong.

and maybe, just maybe if I could be a normal teen and have a boyfriend and get drunk once in a while and go to every school dance there is, and get a 25 on the ACT and have people love me for who I am and that would be enough… maybe I wouldn’t feel so worthless on the inside.

But the truth is that nobody is good enough.

It doesn’t matter how hard I try, or how many awards I get: I’m always going to be empty. Cuz those things don’t fill me up.

There is nothing in the world that makes me happy and content. Nada. Which just drives home that point that I don’t belong here.

Today during the Easter service I played piano for church for the first time in almost 6 months. There I was, pounding away. listening to the songs, swaying to the music. and I could feel Him around me. Thickening the air. Sending chills up and down my back and springing tears to my eyes. I couldn’t help thinking “This is how it’s supposed to be.” Cuz that’s where I belong. Not on a stage, not in front of a piano. Not with tears in my eyes, or chills down my back… but in the presence of my God.

I am worthless.

To have a place to belong someone had to die.

I’m living someone else’s reward.

I screwed up and killed any chance I had for happiness. I broke the rules, I dodged blame, and I tried to pretend it didn’t happen…

And while I was doing my own thing, Jesus came and took the life that I had built for myself. A life where I don’t belong. A life full of loneliness and pain. Depression. Anger… A life that He didn’t deserve by any stretch of the imagination. A life that can only lead to death.

And because he died the worst kind of death, I was able to take his life. To move in with His family. To call God my father. To be perfect as Jesus is.

But I am a man of unclean lips. I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the Lord. Woe is me. But Jesus’ blood has touched my lips. My sins are forgiven, my guilt is taken away…

But I’m still stuck here. And that is the beauty of Easter.

Jesus isn’t still in some tomb somewhere. He conquered death. He rose again. And one day He will return for me. He’ll come on his white horse and He will take me away from this dying world.

No, I don’t want to be a normal teen. It’s my lack of normalcy that makes me realize how futile it all is. This place is not where I belong. I belong somewhere else with someone else doing something else.

And for a few moments today I was there.

Right now I can honestly say I have no words. I have a lot to say, but no words. So I’m going to try and get a coherent post out, but I can’t guarantee anything.

I have had an amazing day. I woke up in my friend Joanna’s bed (lol) after spending the night. I went to church and heard an amazing sermon about Jesus. He’s my favorite. Then I came home with my family surrounding me. Made stir fry with my awesome brother, Dan. Ate said stir fry. It was delicious. Later that afternoon Joanna and Kayla came over to do toenails together. We laughed and joked and went on a walk to the park and back. Ate hamburgers with the Menter and Brunk families. (and Kayla). After supper I recieved closure on something that I have been dealing with since I was 5 years old. I have prayed about it. And forgiven the people involved. and gotten right with God, but interpersonal issues were still present. but now…

God is so good. He doesn’t forget about us in our troubles. I had resigned myself, thinking that my relationship with this person would never be the same because of what had happened. and now it’s better then ever. Cuz there isn’t that wall up anymore.

I’m sorry this doesn’t make much sense. I am just in awe of God and how he follows through in his promises. He promises to take care of his people and to never leave them. He promises good things to those who trust in Him. And I can testify to how He loves. How He cares. How He provides. and how He heals. it’s amazing.