Monday, June 17
I look across the street and see a beautifully manicured lawn and garden. Mine is a mess, with weeds and brown grass and a completely broken sprinkler system yet again.
My brothers' rooms are clean. Mine, again, is a mess.
My little brother just got engaged. It's been almost a year since I went on more than one date with someone.
Many of the people I know have careers. Or know what they are going to do in the next year or five. I don't feel like I know anything... and don't know which way to go.
A teacher in Sunday School today asked me how to be a good friend. She told me I was a friend to lots of people. I had no answer. Ironic that I don't feel it.
People think I'm too busy for friends, or that I have tons of them. But when we try to get close it doesn't work... because I don't know how to be a friend.
One place I feel useful is at the temple. But I wonder if I'm really good enough to be a worker there... even to the point of not going some weeks.
I live with my brothers, but feel like I would be closer to them if I didn't... because I inevitably do things that cause strife. When we work together, I find it's better to work on the opposite side of the house. Otherwise, something will happen to push us apart.
People ask me for help, and I feel more broken than they are.
A guy who just moved into the ward asked me after Church if there was anything else happening today. He sounded like he wanted an opportunity to get to know people. I thought about inviting him to dinner, and inviting others as well, but I didn't do it. I told myself I was tired, and fell asleep as soon as I walked in the door coming home.
I asked someone to be our choir director two weeks ago. She hasn't held choir yet, and people ask me why, and I feel like it's my fault.
I still deal with depression, with loneliness that doesn't go away even when I'm with people who love me, with inadequacies and frustrations that keep me awake into the night.
I'm alone, lost, broken, tired, and worn out.
I feel like, comparatively, I am nothing.
And yet, somehow, it's okay. Because, even with the reality - that there are a thousand things I could/should do better - I feel peace. God loves me.
Maybe it's okay to be nothing.