Welcome to the In-Between
I don't recognize myself. Sure, my eyebrows are still thick, I squint till you can barely see my eyes when I smile, and that birthmark is still on my right shoulder even though my mom said it would go away. But I don't recognize myself.
I’ve changed.
Most days, the jury is still out on whether that's good or bad. My hair is longer, but I've gained 10 pounds. I've stopped spreading myself so thin, but that usually means I back out of something at the last minute.
The hard part is people have noticed.
Someone looked me in the eyes last week and told me you're not the person you were six months ago. And the only thing I could say back with ugly tears and a little snot was, "I know."
I’m painfully aware.
There's a me that I used to be that I can't seem to find.
It feels like she’s stuck somewhere between beauty and pain.
Mourning and dancing.
Heartbreak and joy.
Pulling her hair out and lifting her hands up.
Crying because it hurts and crying because it’s good.
Sickness and health.
Death and life.
Right smack dab in the middle of everything, in the in-between.
It's a place I didn't expect to be. A place I've tried to run from. My black-and-white mind can't handle things that are BOTH/AND because they should be one or the other. I should be sad or happy. Fit or out of shape. Loved or rejected. Just because there's good doesn't mean there's bad, and just because there's bad doesn't mean there's not good, and sometimes everything's as mixed up as peanut butter and jelly, leaving me to look for the put-together church girl that I used to be.
But maybe…just maybe… there's a little more to life. It's a little messier than I ever really knew was possible. And Shrek was right when he said people were like onions; they've got more layers than I knew (Although I'd much rather be compared to a cake).
Maybe I’m strong and I’m weak.
Maybe I’m struggling and faithful.
Maybe I’m a sinner but still saved.
Maybe I’m both and all of the above.
There's no advice here—no self-help or step-by-step. Just a hey friend, I see you doing your very best, and I want you to know that you're not alone, or crazy, or lost. Things might feel upside down, or topsy-turvey, or just flat-out wrong. The person you used to be, the life you used to know, might look a little different now, and things feel messy. But even in the mess, God is doing something miraculous. I'm just here to say I get you, I see you, and
Welcome to the in-between.