I’m not okay.
I’ll say it again.
I am not okay. And that is okay.
Moving to Pennsylvania has changed my life. Since that late August Sunday, my life has been eternally different than it ever was before and than I ever thought it would be. When I moved, I had no idea what my purpose was. I came to this place feeling alone – separate from those of the world and the one true King. Since coming to this place, I’ve been stripped of everything I thought I knew about who I was and of everything I thought I knew of this world.
Life’s an eternal teacher, and I’m living an eternal lesson. Some days are busier than others, some more fun, some a lot harder. I get to wake up every morning and serve the Lord’s people in any way and in all ways. I get to go home every night and know that I’m where the Lord has called me to be and know that I’m making a difference – may it be through a group of hundreds of youth visiting property, or through a newly stained concrete floor.
I’m very thankful that I don’t know my purpose. I’m very thankful that I’m learning how to hurt and how to heal through the hurt. I’m very thankful that I’m learning how to fall at the feet of the Lord and beg for Him to love me, to be patient with me, and to mold me into who He has planned for me to be. I’m very thankful that He shows me enough grace to get through each day, but that He refuses to give me grace for tomorrow until the morning sun rises and tomorrow is today.
Through selflessly serving thousands of strangers, I’m learning how to not forget about who I am and what I need. I’m learning that even Jesus came to this Earth to serve, so I must serve as well, but that second to my relationship with Him comes my relationship with myself. I’m shown that I must unlock my doorknobs and knock down my walls and be vulnerable with those around me.
It’s okay that sometimes, I am not okay. That when someone asks me “how are you?,” I don’t always have to say “good” if it isn’t the truth. I’m here to speak hard truths – to others, to myself – if it means glorifying His name and my still yet-determined purpose on this Earth. That asking someone else for their help and for their prayers is not a sign of weakness, it is understanding that we are here in this earthly place to lift one another up and to push one another out of our comfort zone and into where our growth begins.
We are eternally loved through our mistakes and through our worldly faults. We are not of this earth but we are here to be a bridge to the Kingdom we one day long to be a part of. I am not okay, but I am known by the Lord and that is enough. I am loved by Him and I am led to love others in His image – understanding that each person loves differently and is cared for differently.
I am learning that not being okay means surrendering these fears at the foot of the cross so that all remains in me is my faith in Him and my unending love for those around me. I am learning that not being okay means releasing the heartbreak I keep in my heart and allowing Him fully in.
It’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to feel lost and confused and alone. But what isn’t okay is ignoring the fact that what is in store for me is so much greater than what I leave behind. That my future holds so much joy, so much celebration, so many lives being changed in His name and for His name. I’m okay with not being okay, because I’m in the midst of allowing Him to create in me His true plan so that one day I may be more than I ever could be without Him.
I sit here, in a Starbucks, coloring on a white cup with one continuous line as I am bitter I didn’t get a green one. As I connect the line between the handwritten words “joy” and “grace” and “faith” and “beloved,” I remember that it is through all these things and through the connection of the past Emily and of the future Emily and of who I am at this very moment, that I am exactly where He called me to be: not okay, and okay with it.