Journal Two: Thoughts and Writing

As I Am


March 14th, 2018

Most days, I feel the tension between a fragile heart and a fighting spirit. I know I am young, but the smile lines that deepen around the corners of my eyes leave evidence that youth is temporary. I shouldn’t cling to it so tightly. I know many things, but also very, very little. I have dreams but many of them change before they are accomplished. I’m twenty-one, sorry… “twenty-fun”, but often I feel out of place. I’ve learned that any time you choose to pursue something different, you have to be prepared to be misunderstood. It’s not as easy as it sounds. Though over time, it has brought good. 

I have been wounded, but perhaps not enough to say “I’ve learned the hard way” as often as others do. I have had my own disappointments, but I still find myself holding the abandon of the young and foolish. “That’s danger”, they tell me. “Don’t make the mistake I did”, they tell me. In the same crevices I recognize my own lack, I find a measure of urgency. A longing to know more, to understand love more fully, to cultivate vision and gather the courage to walk in it, to reach for the things higher than the length of my two arms.

I don’t feel as though I should lift a banner over my head that boasts of any kind of resilience, but I can look at you with honest eyes and tell you with honest words that I am most certainly not broken beyond mending. Still, my frame is the only strength that can carry a weary heart and weary mind. My frame, my foundation, not the one built on bones. The one that stands firm with feet facing towards the ocean’s edge, unthreatened by the wind. The harshest wind. Carries its warrior cry in a child’s song, binding its loose ends and fraying threads together into a fabric that is neither exceptionally brilliant or vibrant, but durable enough to last the years. 

My framework is in Jesus. 

My song is for Jesus. 

My hope is because of Jesus. 

My faith did not rise up in the dreaming. It rose up in the resistance. I can’t say I am at the place of welcoming the resistance, but I am at least trying not to despise it. 

And today, I am choosing to show up. Just as I am. Because I think that is the most honourable thing I can do. I feel as though I don’t have very much to give, but feelings of inadequacy have too often been my escape route. Not today. Sometimes, I struggle to let myself care enough out of fear of caring too much. Not today. That is no way to live. Today, I am showing up. My past once buried deep beneath my skin, now written on my sleeves. I’m showing up, wearing both insecurity and confidence. I'm showing up with my hand stretched out to yours. If you need it, here it is, friend. We draw each other out when we let each other in. I'm showing up, with all of my unhidden pieces of a deeply hidden heart, knowing that some things are still meant to be kept sacred and safe and sheltered until their season. I'm showing up, because for the first time in my life, I feel like I can. Like I truly can. 

Jesus makes this timid girl brave. 

- S

sarah kierstead