"Ugh, mornings are the worst," I mumbled to myself as I lay there quietly on my bed, burying my face into my pillow.
I just want to go back to sleep…
Sunday morning came way too early, and I could already hear my mother calling me from downstairs.
"It's time to get up, Gabriana, we have church today!" Mom yelled.
With a sigh, I pulled myself up, already dreading what the day would bring.
I grabbed my diary from behind my bed frame and flipped to a fresh page. I needed to get my thoughts down on paper…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear Diary,
This morning, I woke up feeling… different. It's like I'm stuck between two worlds, and I don't know where I belong. I'm supposed to go to church today, and put on my "good Christian" face, but my heart is torn between two worlds.
I want to enjoy the world around me, everything it has to offer, and it's so easy to get caught up in. It's like the world is whispering all these promises that sound so tempting. But deep down, I know I should put God first. My heart tells me that I need to follow Him, even when everything around me is trying to pull me in the other direction. Carrying my cross every day is hard, especially when I see all the fancy distractions calling my name.
The struggle inside me is so real. It's like every part of me is being pulled in two different directions. On one hand, I long to explore everything this world has to offer; its beauty, excitement, and endless possibilities. But on the other hand, there's this deep, gentle pull, almost like a whisper, urging me to listen, to seek something far beyond this materialistic stuff.
As I get ready for church this morning, I feel a strange mix of fear and excitement swirl inside me. What revelations will today's services bring? Would I discover something that will help me understand who I truly am? Or will I be left with even more questions, struck in this battle between what I want and what I'm called to be? Sometimes it feels like I'm trapped in this endless struggle, not sure if I'll ever figure it out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I read over these words, I could see how lost I must have sounded. Like I'm drowning in my own confusion. Part of me wonders if everyone at church feels this way too, or if I'm the only one wrestling with these thoughts every single Sunday. Maybe that's why I keep writing it all down; so I can see myself clearly, even when everything else feels blurry.
After writing in my diary, two Bible verses kept echoing in my mind, over and over, almost like a soft whisper that wouldn't just go away. The first one was from Matthew, and it reads:
"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." (Matthew 6:19-21, NIV).
Here's the next verse that kept flashing in my thoughts:
Then he said to them all: "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it." (Luke 9:23-24, NIV).
It was like the words were reaching out to me, pulling at my heart, and trying to get me through the confusion in my head.
Suddenly, the bedroom door creaked open, and I saw my mother standing there, her expression a mix of concern and warmth. She started talking softly, like she always did when she was trying to explain something important.
"Darling, why are you still in bed? You know it's time to get up for church! We go through this every Sunday, don't we?" Mom asked, as she tried to get me out of bed.
I groaned, sinking a little deeper into the covers.
"Yeah, Mom, I know the routine," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
"Can't believe it's Sunday again…" I stated that I dread getting up early every Sunday morning for another reason. The thought of having to drag myself out of bed just to go through the same process made me want to disappear into my mattress.
The first reason? Lucy Carmichael. Of course. The girl I used to call my good friend, but not anymore. Not after what she did. The minute I told her I liked Jonah, she swooped in and snatched him away, like it was some kind of game. I could never forgive her for that. She totally broke the girl code, and I hated her for it!
"Ughhhhh, why, Mom? Why do I always have to get up at 7 am in the morning for church every Sunday?" I whined, pulling the covers over my head.
"It's not faaair! My friends in high school don't have to go to church every week like I do," I continued.
"Sarah gets to sleep until noon! Jessica doesn't even have to go to church! And I'm the only one stuck getting up at the crack of dawn every single week!" My voice came out high-pitched and whiny.
"Instead, they get to stay out late partying with their friends, and the next morning they get to sleep in," I muttered bitterly then flopped back against my pillow dramatically reflecting upon this poem.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tears of Worship,
*She lay alone in bed, her face buried deep in her tear-stained pillow holding onto every hurt, every broken promise, every rejection. The groaning started deep inside her chest as she sank into the covers, trying so hard to forget, and forgive, but the pain wouldn't let go.
*The weight of the world pressed down on her shoulders,
all the worries, the loneliness, the feeling of being invisible,
pulled her deeper into the darkness, making it hard to breathe,
until she felt like she was drowning in her own confusion.
*But then, with trembling hands, she raises them upwards toward heaven, releasing it all unto Christ, even though her heart was breaking from the growing pressure. With her shaking hands and a faithful, stubborn heart. She praises Him anyway, even when nothing around her has changed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As I silently pondered this poem to myself, I recalled this bible verse.
"So that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord's holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God." (Ephesians 3:17-19, NIV)
As I experience the love of Christ and know that He is able to do exceedingly above all we ask of Him.
As I sat still, my mind started wandering back to some moments I wish I could forget. There was this guy: handsome, charming, everything I thought I wanted. At first, he seemed perfect, but once I got to know him… he wasn't. He was just another fake who tore me apart with his hurtful words.
I can still hear his voice from that night, "I like you, but not that way. Why don't we remain friends for the time being."
The nerve of him! It was like he crushed everything I had hoped for, right there in front of me. It makes me want to scream just thinking about it! He was just like all the other guys I fell for. I kept telling myself I wasn't wasting my time, but deep down, I was searching for someone who would see me, the real me, and not just my body.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Invisible Girl,
*There were days at school when I felt invisible, lost within the crowd, like I didn't belong, just standing there alone. I watched as everyone around me connected and laughed, while I wondered if anyone here even knew my name.
*The feeling only grew worse the harder I tried to matter. I searched every face, hoping someone might see me, reaching out in small ways that no one seemed to notice, each day feeling more and more like I was fading away.
*Night after night, I prayed for love and acceptance, desperate to find where I fit in this world. But no matter how long I searched or how hard I prayed, no one could tell me why I was here in this world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've spent so many nights crying myself to sleep, wishing I could be someone else. Someone who belonged. Then, just like always, another handsome guy would come along. He'd fall for one of my friends, the pretty one, of course, and I'd just be left wondering where my happiness went. Where's my "happily ever after?" It felt like love didn't even exist anymore.
"Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them. For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever." (1 John 2:15-17, NIV).
It feels like everything in my life is falling apart. It's like I'm just waiting for the next disaster to strike. But I know this isn't the end of my story. There's still hope. My heart has been wounded many times, but I'm not giving up on love. I can't and I won't. I still believe love exists even though the world is doing everything it can to tell me otherwise.
Am I wrong to still believe in love? I'll keep searching, even if it feels like I'm the only one who still believes it exists.
"Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins." (1 Peter 4:8, NIV).
Sometimes I wonder if holding onto love is brave or just foolish. Mom says it's faith, but what if I'm just setting myself up to be hurt again? Still, something inside me refuses to let go. Maybe that's what faith really is: choosing to believe even when everything around you tells you not to believe.
As I got ready, lost in my thoughts, I could feel my mother smiling at me. She didn't even need to say anything. It was like she already knew what was going on inside my head.
"The Lord still has a plan for the two of us, Gabriana, even if we can't see it just yet," she said, her voice really calm and steady.
I could feel the weight of her words in my chest as she looked up at me, her eyes filled with so much love. No matter how tired I was this morning, I knew it would all be worth it when we got to church.
My mother is the only family that I have left in my life after my father's death; his family disowned us after the car accident that claimed his life.
"We must learn to appreciate the time we have to spend in the Lord's presence and not let this world change us for the worse," she continued.
"Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." (Romans 12:2, NIV).
"You're right, Mom," I said quietly, as I finished getting ready.
"Let's continue getting ready so that we can praise the Lord together," I declared.
I watched as Mom's face lit up when I agreed and it made something shift inside me. She's been through so much: losing Dad, being rejected by his family, and being forced to raise me alone. Yet here she is, still believing, and still hopeful. If she can hold onto her faith after everything, we've been through maybe I can too.
With that, we continued getting ready. As we got dressed in our Sunday best, making sure everything was perfect—the cross on my dark blue dress. Once we were dressed and looking our very best, Mom grabbed both our Bibles and gave us a spritz of perfume, so we both would smell fabulous.
"Goodbye, father, we're heading out for church, see you when we return," I said as I kissed his picture frame and blew out the candles next to his photo.
Before we left, we both took a moment to admire how beautiful we looked.
The mirror reflected two single ladies on our way to church.
The drive to church seemed short, even though it was only 20 minutes away, as we prepared to worship Christ.