I read a blog post recently about a woman who didn't go to her 20th high school reunion because she had felt so miserable in highschool (she had WANTED to be a cheerleader, and WASN'T!) that she didn't want to relive the pain. She had so wanted to be popular, and go to parties, and date lots, but didn't.... and so had hated highschool. She was talented, funny, and had good, close friends, but wasn't "popular" by her own standards. In many ways, her experience was my experience... with one crucial difference. I wasn't miserable not being popular. Now, as an adult.... I see what a blessing it was to NOT be.
Don't get me wrong. I don't think there's quite enough money in the world to lure me back into highschool. I still have a recurring dream wherein, as a college-educated adult, it's discovered that I (GASP) hadn't completed a semester of highschool, and I have to go back! It's never a good dream, and usually consists of me getting lost in the hallways, forgetting my locker combination, and having to take a calculus exam after not attending the class for an entire semester. I fully admit that I do not miss highschool. Not one. little. bit.
In my real, non-dream junior high and highschool days, I was painfully shy. PAINFULLY. Like, it physically hurt at times. I remember distinctly the first day in my new junior high, pretending that I wasn't there, that I was merely an observer to what was going on. I remember getting flustered when someone spoke directly to me. I remember the awkward dread of being in a room full of unfamiliar people, and not having the slightest inkling on what to say or how to act. It improved some over the next few years, but by the time highschool came around, and there was to be a new transition, I made a conscious decision to reinvent myself into a vivacious, beautiful, popular-acting person. Like my sisters - both of who WERE cheerleaders and popular. I changed my look, bought miniskirts and big earrings. I walked down the hallway, making eye contact (!!!) with others. And.... I failed miserably. Because I didn't know how to be that person, and I ended up losing my sense of self so drastically that I slipped into a depression for months on end. I slept all the time. I withdrew. I became quiet and sullen - even with my family. And then, one day the summer between my sophomore and junior year, I had realization. A God-given realization about myself. I.... am a NERD. End of story. I liked to read. I liked BAND. I liked being goofy and immature. I liked hanging out with my parents. And I liked getting good grades. Big. Deal. It was incredibly freeing, this self-acceptance. Like a big weight being lifted off of me. I didn't have to try and be something I wasn't. I was only me -- nerdy, goofy, awkward, goody-two-shoes me. When others were sneaking alcohol at the back of the bus - I refused. While a good friend of mine ended up pregnant at 17, I had just had my first, innocent kiss. While others were out partying, I was at home watching movies with a few good friends. And it was OKAY.
The other thing this self-realization did for me was stopped me from focusing on MYSELF. I was able to "get over myself" so to speak. Being that miserable was very much a form of self-centeredness. Being hypercritical of oneself is just as self-centered as being vain. And I realize now, regardless of how uncomfortable this introvertedness was THEN, what a blessing it was. It was a gift from God, protecting me from temptations that others had to deal with. He granted me my few close friends who I still keep in contact with today. I'll take those few, deep friendships over scores of shallow ones any day.
Much in our life is the same way. We who are blind to God's plans don't necessarily understand what life event's are meant to teach us. I'm reminded of Corrie TenBoom, during her time in a German concentration camp.... she thanked God every day for the lice she and her cellmates suffered with. LICE. Because the lice kept the prison guards at bay, and that allowed them some sembelance of freedom from the guard's constant supervision and torture.
I have had heartbreak in my life. Difficulties, tribulations. Minor in comparison to some (even most), I admit readily. I have been overwhelmingly blessed. As I struggle through each difficulty life has to offer, though, I am slowly learning that sometimes, there are blessings hidden there as well. Once, during a miscarriage, I remember crying to a friend that the hardest part of losing the baby was that I couldn't see God's plan, because I knew it was there, but I didn't know what it was. After the birth of my last child, the purpose of that miscarriage became
abundantly clear. Not that God WANTED my baby to die. But He used the experience to manifest His glory.
May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships - so that we may live deep within our hearts. May God bless us with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people - so that we may work for justice, freedom, and peace. May God bless us with tears to shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger, and war - so that we may reach out our hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy. And may God bless us with enough foolishness to believe that we can make a difference in the world - so that we can do what others claim cannot be done, to bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.
Amen.
