Although I’m
yet in their early stages, I’ve discovered over the last couple of years that
one’s twenties are inevitably the most difficult decade of life so far. Whereas
before it seemed easy to size up your peers based on benchmark developmental
points that we all reached at relatively the same time, going down the same
tunnel of physical, emotional, and educational development at approximately the
same rate, it seems that in the twenties, this tunnel just ends, and everything
that was in it spills out everywhere, in all directions. You lose the ability
to compare yourself accurately to your peers. Maybe others have truly mastered
the art of not comparing oneself to their peers, and good for them, but
comparison, and trying to be first or best at everything is something that I’ve
continually struggled with (and I’ve been pretty silent about it, too, even
denying it quite often) because coming out on top makes me feel like I’m doing
something right—like I have control.
I’m 22, single, with no prospects on the
dating horizon, stuck in a part-time, dead-end job, spend many of my days
just loafting around the house, wondering when my big break is going to come
(as if that is owed to me), and lamenting the fact that as more and more of my
friends get into serious relationships, the less and less time we’ll spend
together. I have friends who are 22, engaged or married, and starting families,
and/or careers in which they are very happy and fulfilled. It’s like we all
came out of that tunnel at the same time, but none of us was given a map, and
although some people seemed to have come out of that tunnel and found the light
of the path they were meant to be on, I’m still stumbling around in the
overgrown weeds, way off the path, in the dark, even though I’ve not done
anything that I feel would warrant my being there rather than on a lighted path—and
some of the people on these lighted paths I just can’t understand how they
possibly deserve the awesome life that they’ve landed. It’s not fair.
I’m told
that this only gets worse as we get father and farther into the decade.
I feel a
lot like Asaph, the psalmist, in the beginning of this psalm. He’s lamenting the
fact that all of these arrogant, wicked people are prospering and thriving,
while he’s struggling and being rebuked, although he has kept his hands and
heart clean. It’s really embittered him towards God, and he doesn’t understand
why God would allow these wicked people to prosper while he suffers, if God is
good, and in control.
And then he
says this:
When my soul was embittered,
when I was pricked in the heart,
I was brutish and ignorant;
I was like a beast towards you.
Nevertheless, I am continually with you;
you hold my right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will receive me to glory.
Whom have I in heaven but you?
And there is nothing on earth that I desire
besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart and my
portion forever.
Yep, I’ve
spent some time really angry at God this year, for allowing things to go the
way they have, praying for him to intervene and confirm the notion that he is
good.
I’ve
struggled a lot with feelings of inadequacy, and self-loathing, and sometimes I’ve
found myself crying in front of a mirror because all I see is a hopeless, ugly,
[series of expletives]. I really can’t
do this on my own. Whom have I in heaven
but the Lord? My flesh and my heart have
failed, and it is folly to put hope in them. There is no strength in this
flesh, but in God there is; not only strength, but portion as well—everything that
I could ever need. I don't need to be in control of every minute aspect of my daily life just to ensure self-preservation because God is in control of everything seen and unseen in ways that are so perfect they are beyond my narrow comprehension. Why would I desire anything on earth more than that?
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