A few years ago, I bought a book from the little store on Main Street simply because it had the word “ambiguity” in the title. I had no idea what the book was actually about, but at the time, it was my very favorite word. I wanted to taste it, feel its fire in my bones, embody it. I gave myself to ambiguity like a lover in the dark. For years, I wanted to get lost and stay there. I wanted to be the girl who was a little bit mysterious, a little bit worldly and misunderstood. I wanted to be the girl who was pined after, and only showed up to the coffee shop once in a blue moon. And of course, the girl who couldn’t be bothered to look up from that book. I watched a lot of documentaries and kept a bottle of red wine hidden under my bed and listened to independent musicians and spoken word poets who cursed a lot. And I loved it. Every last ambiguous minute of it.
But the truth about time is that there’s really nothing ambiguous about it. Time moves with or without you.
Today, I turned 25, and I got sucker punched by one of the most profound truths that I have ever encountered: in order to be found, you need to be honest about where you’re at. In other words, you gotta kick ambiguity to the curb. And perhaps the most harrowing part of that revelation was realizing that deep down, I’ve wasted a lot of time playing these games, and I’m tired. I’m tired, and I want to be found.
So here’s the honest to God, laying everything on the line truth: where I’m at right this moment feels a whole lot like lost in the deep woods.
The truth is that for the past month or so, I’ve felt like there’s a Great Wall of China between me and God, and I don’t know what to name it. All I know is that I miss him, and whatever this is that’s getting in the way of us, I want to watch him level it. I want to watch him wreck me and build me back again. I find myself begging him to show up, but the church feels empty. I’m still here, asking for him to come and search me.
The truth is, I’m trying to learn what it looks like to work hard and play hard and love harder. I’m trying to learn how not to cringe at the thought of getting my hands dirty. I haven’t been a strong second mile person, and I’m learning that I can only journey with someone as far as I’m willing to go with myself.
The truth is, it has taken me a long time to actually realize that authenticity is not something that can be staged or filtered. Authenticity is an answer that can never be rehearsed. Sometimes authenticity is murky and filled with a lot more questions than answers. But I’m starting to figure out that people don’t need answers as much as they need to know that they’re not alone with their questions.
Where I’m at is uncomfortable. It is messy and vulnerable and a whole lot of things I don’t enjoy being. I’m trying to be kinder to myself and remember that nothing worthwhile happens overnight. I’m trying hard to learn how to stay. I know I want to put down roots. I know I want to breathe deeper than this.
But mostly, I just miss God tonight. I miss him so bad, it hurts. In this moment, that is as honest as I know how to be.
It turns out, ambiguity is a lover that will leave you feeling hollow. All this time, I have been clinging to it, as if to say I thought what we had meant something. I thought that we would go chase the dream together.
I’m learning how to hold on, and I’m learning how to let go — to save my life by losing it.
And how to be found.