The colors of my life

 My life could be described with any number of very colorful words.  My parents are separated, my brain hurts, school is hard, I’m sick all the time (and nobody knows why).

People ask me how I’m feeling.  In my head I think, do you really want to knowI say “pretty good.”  I’m thinking I feel like road kill

All my joints are in pain, I am nauseous, and tired doesn’t even begin to touch my pure and unrelenting weariness.

I pray “God why haven’t you made me better yet?  I’ve been praying to you for almost 3 years about this!  Have I not done enough?  Why am I still like this?  Why am I not healed?  Why won’t you take this thorn from me?  WHY?”

And it makes me mad that other people are running around.  That other people can get up and get ready for church without throwing up.  That they can ask me how I am, give me their pity and move on with their lives.

Then God looks at me, in all my patheticness, and He says

“Don’t you remember what I’ve taught you?  Don’t you know that I am in control?  You’re right.  Your life is hard.  But I have you here for a reason.  You are mine and I love you and I will always do what’s best for you.  I am going to do great things in you.  You are blessed.”

And of course I want to argue with God.  I want to say “Does this look like blessed to you?”

But because I’m me, and He’s the God of the universe, I know He’s right.

I could be dead.

I could be blind.

I could be homeless.

I could be an orphan.

I could be unloved.

BUT I’M NOT.

I am ALIVE, and I have a HOME, and a FAMILY that LOVES me despite all my problems.  I have a CHURCH that SUPPORTS me even though I have very little to offer them.  And above all I HAVE A SAVIOR THAT LIVED AND DIED FOR ME AND HAS FORGIVEN ALL MY SINS, EVEN THOUGH I AM MESSED UP.

And even though my life is hard, I am called on to remember that

I AM BLESSED.

And those are the colors of my life.

 

/sīˈkädik/

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