Some time ago, I slowly settled back into the irregular, yet familiar, rhythms of my ordinary life. Returning from a highly chaotic family holiday filled with strange twists and turns, this small moment of normalcy, if you can even call it that, has been a deeply valued gift. On second thought, no… “normal” isn’t quite the word. My life is anything but, and sometimes, that can be a little tiring.
I find myself wondering if it has to be this way. Sometimes, it feels as if I’m just playing around with my own potential, making no real progress on the things I’ve committed to, and ultimately, failing to live out the life God has planned for me. But you don’t need to tell me I’m not failing. I say this with full awareness that I’m merely comparing myself to my peers—how they’ve secured their 9-to-5s, gotten married, and are starting to plan for their future families. As I wrestle with my body clock, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to be a wife and mother. Time is ever so slightly running out.
Though as I agonise over these thoughts, I wouldn’t say I’m particularly anxious about my future. The life I currently live is so much more than a transition period, and I intend to continue living it out to the fullest in the most honourable way I can. And that has come in the form of responsibility through difficult conversations, taking care of my body, and learning to trust in God’s timing. There’s still so much more work to be done, and I’m glad to have been given the privilege to participate in such endeavours.
Carrying out responsibilities can be hard, but it is often so rewarding. Other times, though, it’s just hard, and you’re left with no reward at all. When you’re stuck in those situations, do you remain faithful? Or do you give up at the first sign of trouble, resigning yourself to wishful thoughts like, “maybe it just wasn’t meant to be”? It’s so easy to lie to yourself, to think you ought to keep going while secretly having one foot out the door, wondering why it’s not working for you, cowardly giving yourself an excuse to quit. We see this all around us, this ease with which we make excuses and play around with our true potential.
I recently had a conversation with someone over brunch about people. How frustrating they can be, the complexities of their social makeup, and why they are the way that they are. We jumped down this rabbit hole of far-fetched reasoning, seeing the manifestations of playing around with the truth, all to subtly avoid accountability. From simplicities as ignorance and lack of self-awareness, to the more sinister in trauma-induced and shame-filled realities. And all I can say to that is, what a strange collective train of thought.
Thinking about all these things, it is simply frustrating. People are complicated, and so very fickle. Inconsistent and untrustworthy. I understand that reality can sometimes be difficult to face, especially when ugly circumstances come your way and bear their fangs at you. But while I do empathise, I’ve decided life is simply not worth living if each choice is tainted by shame or coloured by some other kind of delusion. These are just more forms of playing around with personal integrity and making excuses for not facing reality head-on.
We ought to show compassion to these people in our lives. But make no mistake. Intentional or not, the ways in which their behaviours hurt us are never acceptable. Because love looks like grace and mercy, but it’s not blind forgiveness that enables them to hurt others again in the same ways. I despise it. The inconsiderate actions taken against others and those who aren’t able to own up to their mistakes. Instead of justifying their faults, I admire those who are capable of reflecting on their actions and taking responsibility for what they have done.
The creator of the universe did not make us so that we would sin against each other. We weren’t designed to play around with people like that and make excuses for our shortcomings out of pride. If there’s one bit of wisdom I’d like for you to take from this, it’s this: stop using your personality as an excuse for your poor behaviour. What good is it to live a life of deniability or dishonour? Perhaps, you’ve wrongly equated your purpose to pleasing others and are unable to face the ugly truth that you’ve inevitably let someone down.
But freedom and purpose aren’t found in maintaining our self-image. You can’t keep running from the truth, justifying your shortcomings. Finding the courage to face yourself and others with honesty is incredibly demanding, yet all the more rewarding. It’s not easy to live a life built on integrity. However, I believe this is how we honour God with the life we’ve been given. Living a life built on authenticity, not cowardice. Because we weren’t designed to play around and make excuses.
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