She feels like a hypocrite, vacillating between what looks like tremendous outward strength, and catastrophic inward crumbling. The stress is getting to her, and some days she can’t even keep food down. The stinging shame of this makes her want to hide, and, yet she is praised for looking good, and this confuses her even more. She can see how a young woman might get an eating disorder, and she is grateful she is old enough to know better- and then she laughs at her own hubris.
She is struggling with making herself do the right things- and procrastinating almost everything. Her grades are not what she wants them to be- but still certainly passable. She isn’t sleeping much, and maybe vanity might be enough to get her to start taking better care of herself. She hasn’t even been writing much, because she wants to put a good face forward- where did that come from, she wonders? She’s always been nakedly honest in her writing.
Some days she feels like she can conquer the world, that she is bright enough, driven enough, and strong enough to take it all on. Other days, she cowers in fear that she can’t actually do it, and if anyone could really see inside her, they would know what a broken mess she actually is. She fears she is failing her kids in the drive to finish school, but she cannot see another way- if she slows down, she doesn’t trust herself. A long trail of broken dreams and ashes litter the road behind her, and she fears stopping to breathe might cause her to drop her basket.
She doesn’t know what else to do, so she falls to her knees and weeps into her folded arms. How is it desperation is what breaks us and brings us to our God? Tears soak her cheeks and lashes and she pours her broken heart, her dark fears, and her fragile, thin hopes- and pleads with her God for his mercy. She only knows she cannot do it alone- and maybe, she wonders, if realizing this yet again is the first step to finding her whole self…
Her tiny mustard seed is this: she knows she has seen but a fraction of the light God has planned for her, but it’s up to her to trust and allow those hands to guide her life. There is simply no other way.