I have spent a lifetime discovering who I truly am, and yet I still find myself asking that question: Who am I? Even after 68 years, I am not perfect—no, I will never be. And that is okay. No one is.
I feel deeply–so deeply that it can be overwhelming at times. Love is at the core of who I am, but with that love comes both joy and heartache. I care with my whole being, which can be both a blessing and a burden.
I am stubborn, and I stand my ground, especially when protecting the people I love. I would go to the ends of the earth for my family, shielding them from pain whenever possible. But sometimes, in doing so, I have enabled behaviors that may not have been for their good—or mine.
I am not a perfect wife, mother, or grandma. I have made mistakes, and I have carried the weight of regret. Sometimes, I wish to go back and undo the hurts I may have placed on others. I pray daily for forgiveness, direction, and the strength to do better.
Over the years, I have built walls to protect myself from pain, rejection, and disappointment. But in doing so, I have also shut out some of the love and healing that could have found its way in. I long to soften my heart, let go of the fear that keeps me guarded, and truly embrace the happiness God wants for me.
Healing is a journey, and I am still walking that path. I pray for wisdom to know how to move forward, the grace to forgive myself and others, and the faith to trust that God’s plan for me is still folding.
Who am I really? I am a work in progress. I am someone who loves deeply, who tries her best, who stumbles but gets back up. I am someone who prays, who hopes, who believes. And in the end, I am someone who is still learning how to fully embrace the life I have been given.
