"You Think" by Jenny and Tyler
‘cause what will the think of me
when they finally see
this little girl they know
doesn’t let her bruises show
it’s not what they think
it’s how You think of me
This semester has been one of the most ridiculous stages in my life. And when I say “ridiculous,” what I mean is “excruciatingly hard and challenging.” These past five months have been a journey, a journey into brokenness.
My life had been going fantastically, I had wrapped up three of the best months of my life at a summer camp, and was so excited for another year of college as great as the one before.
Then I had an old friend pass away. I hadn’t seen or talked to this person in a long time, we had grown apart throughout the years and became more like acquaintances, yet it was still a blow, one harder than I had expected as a young life is always harder to accept.
In a very short amount of time, I had experienced the deaths of more than ten loved ones. Over time, although I did not become completely hardened from the grief, I did become numb to the pain.
This semester was all about coming to terms with the pain, realizing it would never fully fade away, but learning how to deal with life in general. It was a wave of exhaustion as pain didn’t come in a small trickle but in a steady downpour.
Through it all, I did nothing but question God and ask Him why the pain was still coming.
We call God the potter and see ourselves as the clay, ready to be formed into a masterpiece. I always picture God sitting in a workshop, gently forming me into something great. But I always tend to forget that any good artist must first knead the clay so that it’s soft, beating it until I can finally be formed into something.
This season of my life has been about being beaten so that I can be ready to be formed.
I’ve hated absolutely every minute of this growing exercise God puts us through. Routinely, I’ve managed to call God a jerk for doing this to me without being struck by lightening.
But I’ve also learned a lot about accepting the brokenness, being tired to the point of exhaustion.
Like it’s okay to admit that I’m hurting.
The LORD gave another message to Jeremiah. He said, “Go down to the shop where clay pots and jars are made. I will speak to you while you are there.” So I did as he told me and found the potter working at his wheel. But the jar he was making did not turn out as he had hoped, so the potter squashed the jar into a lump of clay and started again. Then the LORD gave me this message: “O Israel, can I not do to you as this potter has done to his clay? As the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand. Jeremiah 18:1-6