Somedays I feel lost.
And although I love the age that I am, I must admit, this time of life is rough. I remember being about 10, 11, or 12 years old (can’t remember the exact age) and there would be some days where my body would randomly ache. When I would complain to my mom about it, she would reassure me that I was fine; I was just experiencing growing pains, a normal part of transition from childhood to adolescence.
While my body is no longer physically indicating such, I can now recognize the signs: I am going through another growth spurt. And on most days, I ache from my growing pains.
I’m in my mid-twenties and like most young adults, I’m trying to figure out the balancing act of life. I’m learning how to be an adult, while also figuring out what it means to be a wife, on top of trying to understand how to become a woman, while most importantly, learning how to live out my life for Christ. Some days I feel strained, other days I feel defeated and find myself gasping for air as if the pressure is choking the life out of me. And when my mind is in too much of a fog to see the light at the end of this emotional tunnel, I can’t help but wonder “Is this life, God?” I know these rounds of aches and pains won’t last forever, but it’s still hard to envision the overcoming in the midst of the struggle.
I feel like the arm as the doctor straps on the sphygmomanometer to take its blood pressure.
The doctor squeezes. Pressure.
Squeeze. More pressure.
Squeeze. Even more pressure.
And right at the moment when the arm feels like it’s going to burst, like it can’t possibly bear the burden of one more squeeze, something beautiful occurs. The release. And the arm exhales a grateful breath of relief.
I’m anticipating my relief.
I’m beginning to see the Son shining through my clouds of darkness. My hope. And this time when I start to complain about my aches of life, instead of my mom’s voice, I now hear God’s voice reassuring me, “You’ll be fine. It’s just growing pains.”