#Diaries of an almost 24-year-old: Part 2
“Believing gets hard, when options are few. When I can’t see how you’re moving, I know you are proving, you’re the God that comes through” ~Naomi Raine
When I came back home from D.T.S., there were a lot of visible changes that the people closest to me saw, which I did not notice until they pointed it out. To some, I became more approachable, to others I was more outspoken. Readjusting to being home took me a while. I went from having every aspect of my day being quite God-centered, to having to be intentional about making that time to spend with God. I found it easier to pursue my relationship with God in a bubble that excluded the reality of life.
First-year of university started like most things start, a mess. By then, I was certain of my decision to pursue medicine, which made me hyper-aware of my grades. To me, every mark, no matter how small, had to be excellent. I spent most of my first year terrified of exams and uncertain about my ability to succeed academically. I would not say that I was someone who was overly confident, but I was confident in my intelligence. Yet in a couple of months, I found myself exchanging my securities for insecurities. With that exchange came the costly by-product of anxiety and fear.
Being in University was a challenge. Not just in concern to my books, but especially in my personal life. I was not sure of what identity I wanted to walk in. As a new Christian, I was in a way obsessed with God. I wanted to know more about who He was truly, not through the eyes of others but for myself. I was passionate in pursuit of the person of God, but I was not comfortable with the label of being “religious.” Although I could never seem to get away from it. Everyone who knew me or met me knew I was a Christian without any disclosure. I was later told that it was the way I spoke, carried myself, and the values I expressed even in silly things like what I wanted in a romantic relationship.
As much as I did not mind being teased about my religion and therefore, some of the values I seemingly held because of it, I felt the burden of it. With that title came a lot of preconceived perception of who I was and how I should live my life when I was what I would call a “baby Christian.” I had questions, that ranged from “why should I save myself for marriage before having sex,” to “what is faith?” I felt like I could not outwardly express that I was still trying to understand what it meant to be a Christian. I was not okay with the expectation that Christianity meant perfection when Jesus came for the broken, dysfunctional people like myself. I was already struggling with the concept and the pursuit of perfection in my own personal life, I did not want that to be a reality I had to face in school. There were times where I rebelled against people’s perception of me, but when I watched the playback in my mind, I was not comfortable with what I saw. Although, I would not change a moment of my rebellion, because it was in those seasons that I solidified my response to the expectations.
Another aspect of my life that I wrestled with that year, was in relationships. I had not changed my perspective on platonic relationships at the time, and although I found myself surrounded by people, I was constantly uncomfortable. I could engage in the topics of discussion, but in my attempt of trying to “fit in” I would act and speak recklessly. I left most conversations battling with the conflict of being a part of this world but questioning if I wanted to be of this world. This is not to say that I was in a space of vulnerability with anyone, as previously noted, I never chose vulnerability as my dance partner. I would rather dance alone. I still had walls built as high as Burj Khalifa and as thick as Fort Knox. In my defense, I had not really met people in school at that point that tempted me to walk down that road. I trusted people with information about myself that would not cost me to share. I never noticed or realized that I had walls until someone blatantly pointed it out years later (but that is a discussion for a different day).
I ended 2014 with confusion, frustration, and a lot of dissatisfaction. I was confused because I lacked direction. I felt like I was stumbling from one point to another in my relationship with God. I spent the latter part of that year studying the templates I saw from others in what their walk with God looked like, but I felt like some of it lacked transparency. By that I meant, yes, I am aware that “God is good! All the time? All the time!” (if you know, you know), but what about the days that I felt He wasn’t good? What about the days when my knowledge did not match my reality? Do I still pray and have faith in a Father that quite frankly at the time, I did not trust either? I was frustrated because it seemed like I was alone in this struggle. People around me were in different chapters of their lives and my ability to relate with them came with a lot of pretense on my part, which meant that I left conversations with temporary satisfaction of having company but the costly deficit of loneliness. I was dissatisfied because I wanted more. I developed this crazy, and quite obsessive need to keep growing that year, but by then, I hadn’t learned that the process of growth doesn’t come with a display screen where you can visibly track your progress, but sometimes the prerequisite for growth starts with being broken. I was not ready for what 2015 had to offer. Truth be told, if I was, I might have stayed in 2014 for a bit longer, but we can talk about that later.
Until next time,
