I’d like to think that I make a difference. I’d like to believe I’m so much more than what I am. I’d like to know in my heart all the truths that people tell me.
But somehow, those words don’t come out of my mouth. For some reason, none of it is real to me.
It’s a long, hard fight towards believing in love, believing in grace.
I’d like to think I’ve got all the answers, so I can just pull them from my pocket when need be. I’d like to think I’m changing lives, carrying my sisters and brothers in Christ. I’d like to believe that God is using me to do amazing things.
But I’m stuck in a cloud of discombobulated thoughts.
The truth is there in my head, drilled into my brain by the repetitious years. There are moments when I feel like a hypocrite, spouting off words of truth that are supposed to reach the hearts of others even though they haven’t reached mine.
See, the truth is the truth, regardless of who delivers it and how. I know the truth, and therefore I have an obligation to fulfill in sharing the truth with others.
I watch people live out the truth, like they’ve got it all together. And I sigh. Surely, I think, I must be missing something.
But no. I am living out the truth.
My life might not be all together, and I may struggle on a
daily hourly basis.
But if I live my life knowing that I am loved by God, I am still living out the truth. If I tell my sister in Christ that she is beautiful in God’s eyes, I am living out the truth. If I tell my brother in Christ that he is priceless to God, I am living out the truth.
No, I’m never going to be the poster girl for Christianity. (Go figure.) But I can still live out the truth, even if I struggle.