For a while I wondered what people would think. To be honest one of the biggest weaknesses he said I had was that I cared so much about what people think. He was right. I did care what people thought and to some extent I still do.
But why do I care? Do I care because I want to appear perfect? The worship leader with a happy life, sought after relationship and a career that many people would classify as good? Am I so sold out for God that the failing of my ‘forever situation’ would lead people to question ‘How did she miss it?’ It sounds silly but these are honeslty the questions I had to ask myself.
I mean don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I am perfect, at least not in the standards of God. But in the standards of social media I’m almost #Goals, in the standards of my peers close and far, I’m pretty much ‘living’
You see how can I show everyone the vulnerable me in the rawness of my emotions? The me who slept and had no dreams, the me who cried and had no tears. The me who spoke and had no words. Instead I want to show them the ‘perfect’ me. The me who rose like a solider proudly rocking the scars and no longer peeling the scabs.
So that’s what I did. I showed them the me who won. For weeks I was off social media because I had nothing to show. For months I woke up like clockwork fighting what I could not see but could painfully feel!
So why is it today on a Wednesday afternoon during my vacation in New York that I write this? I write this because somewhere inside of me I wish I showed the world the peeling process. The points where my scab kept peeling and bleeding until it finally formed new skin. The point where God stripped me of everything just to show me that I had been riding solo for so long when there was a passenger throughout the journey! Me! I wasn’t steering this wheel or driving this car, He was. No not him.. Him! I wish I showed you the tears, the battles and the moments of insecurity so that you can see that me right now is a miracle. I wish I showed you so that you can see that this woman you casually speak about in admiration or sometimes gossip, is human.
So dear diary I write this letter not because I owe it to anyone to explain myself, but because I owe it to God to show the world that this imperfect girl went through an imperfect situation simply because she had the only perfect one working through, in and with her.
Me- Sarah. Not Mrs E, Not the The Tales of a Bride to be, Just Sarah