"It's a long way for an answer" replays in my head a lot these days.
As you may know, I am agnostic. I don't believe there is enough evidence to prove whether there is a god or not. Christians will argue this point, as other religions will, but truth is, there is not enough evidence. Personal encounters may have lead you to believe there is a god (which may actually be right) but there are not enough universal facts to completely ensure the truth of the existence of a god. Yes, there may be a surpassingly substantial amount of evidence for Christianity, but just as scientific laws, there must be 100% evidence and the conclusion must be indisputable. Similar to gravity. Every object on Earth that elevates through the air will fall back down at some point. Without doubt. But sadly, we do not have enough knowledge of a god to say that. Thus we continue in a foolish fight over an answer only time will reveal, not unkind words and sharp swords.
Now that I have moved past the basics of where I stand and why, I'll move onto something that matters. (PLEASE LISTEN TO THE SONG IN THE LINK.) Despite the many song meanings I looked up, I have decided that this song is somewhat religiously/emotionally speaking. As I was listening to a playlist of mine on Pandora, this song came on. In the beginning, I found nothing spectacular. Upon hearing the chorus, I identified easily with the singers. My life in words would be exceedingly similar to the chorus of this song (minus the "I'm home" line).
Throughout this week, I cannot tell you how many times I have turned this song on. Especially in my numerous nights of insomnia. My mind would not rest. Grades to family, family to friends, friends to sports, sports to grades. Then grades again. I was lying awake last night around 11:40 and developed a headache from doing too much math in my head. Not just random "let's fall asleep counting degrees of this function and determing the end behavior! FUN!" math, but semi-significant and relevant math. I was figuring out my grades based on my midterm grades then the total grade and what I will have to make in each class to acquire my desirable set of As and Bs: A in LatinII (easy), A in health/P.E. (super easy), A in Algebra II (challenging), B in Biology (challenging once more). After long calculations, I began to freak out because I did not know that at the beginning of a new quarter, you start from nothing. I thought that you kept your remaining average and had to start with that. I worried that my first quarter grades would hurt my second quarter, lowering my GPA, my class rank and as well my chance of obtaining admittance to Yale. Stop laughing, I seriously want to attend Yale, whether you think it is possible or not. And if I am not accepted, at least I will have known that I tried.
After this long fight with myself and stressing way too much, I went downstairs to ask my dad if students started from 0 in a new quarter or not. He was asleep on the couch. Great. I came back upstairs and dialed my brother's number. Thankfully, he picked up and slowly but surely helped me through my dilemma. He did not know the answer to my initial question but instead knew the answer to what I was searching for. I felt vulnerable as I confessed to him all that I had harbored so well. How I hate being a disappointment, a failure, how I hate being called stupid, how I may not be naturally scholarly, but capable and how I found that a positive, a blessing, but everyone looks upon me demoralizingly because I have to work hard, and few things come naturally. I felt even more pitiful to be divulging all the things that I had so tightly wound to an outsider, someone who could never understand. I felt merciless towards everything, enraged because I was a victim in a cruel game, as I waited in silence for my brother's response.
Eventually he drew words out, elucidating each syllable, a gross change from my hasty, shaky, dialogue that was split by sobs. Then and there, my brother expounded on how God's grace is what I need. How I need to stop for a second and plead for it, because I could not lose anything from doing so. I asked him what to say, and echoed the words. Terror struck through my body like a Grandfather clock hitting midnight. I cannot be one of the people who have persecuted me in times of need, who have judged me when they are equally as human. I cannot conform to the most ignorant, judgmental, liars. I continued to be stirred up with negative feelings, with unsettledness. I prayed for grace again and again. Because I need it more than anything right now. I need to be helped and relieved of the burdens a teenage girl should not carry. I need to have those brutal events and memories erased from my memory, I need a rescue boat, I need a Savior.
Now I sit here in a confused state of being, unsure of where I want to be. I remember once having told someone so deeply much about my life and they responded saying this: "I see you knowing where you are, knowing where you've been, and knowing you're destination, but unsure if that is really where you want to be." I am a mirror image of that, so sure of what I've been and ready to go somewhere, but not sure if that is really where I desire to go.
Yesterday I was broken. Today I am searching for one to put me back together. I am moving in some direction. Which way, I am unsure. I am sickly and looking for a cure. "I need your grace to remind me to find my own" (Snow Patrol). I'm searching for grace, even though I may always remain a disgrace. I am searching for it an answer, but it's a long way. I'm searching, not for something to grasp as my ineptitude bears down on my shoulders. Instead I'm searching for something just to steady me as I stand up from my fall.
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