Tell Me

"How are you?" I ask a passerby in the hallway.

"Fine, thanks." (Her eyes say: But really, I am not fine, because my boyfriend just broke up with me and my mom is a million miles away in a jail because she is hooked on drugs and I don't even know if there is a God listening to me because for so many years, I thought I had the perfect life. The perfect dream life. And like that, it's gone. And now, I'm stuck here. Plugging away at what little future I have left. But I'll spare you all those details because I know you don't want that truth, and just say, "I'm fine.".)

MY heart says: Though I don't know you, I WANT the details. Not because I'd like to spread rumors, degrade you, or any other mean thing. But because I love you. I love your essence. Because there IS a God who listens and loves you to the end of the earth and beyond. Because you're an amazing person with an amazing future if you will just begin being honest with yourself and with me. I am not one of those fake, "How are you" ers. I MEAN How. Are. You? Please, please, please, tell me.

Tell me, so I can pray for you.

Tell me, so I can love on you and be a shoulder for you to lean on.

Tell me, because I know the King of Kings who was willing to lay down His life so that you could live eternally.

Tell me, because I'd be more than happy to introduce Him to you.

Tell me, because you, dear one, are not "fine."

But "Fine, thanks," is all I get, and we walk on. I, never knowing her full story. She, never knowing how much I wanted to listen. To show her SOMEONE cares. In fact, two someones care-God and myself.

Doesn't everybody?

Lately, I've been dealing with having been put on a pedastal for everyone else to look at and judge.

That sounds so silly, but it's true. Because of who my parents are (both in leader positions in people-populated jobs), my every step is monitored. And every step is reported back to my parents. Not that I've tried that last part out. Or that my parents ask for my life to be reported back to them. But it is. Reported back. Not even my buying a Reese goes unnoticed. Ok. Well, maybe there was that one Reese in the bookstore at college that...well, who cares about that?!

My parents trust me. (Good thing.) They know my personal code of morals is high. (Also a good thing.)

But. Everything I do, put on Facebook, say to anyone gets turned into this circus freak show that EVERYONE has to tell EVERYONE else about. Why? Because it's me. Because I am doing it, putting it on Facebook, and telling it. Because I should be perfect.

NEWSFLASH: I'm not. I'm just an ordinary girl with an extraordinary God who forgives, unlike some who decide my every move must be labeled and categorized and reported.

I have moments where I melt down. So what? Doesn't everybody?! Don't YOU?! I have a heart. I have feelings. I cry. I laugh. I scream. I'm scared. I'm fearless. I wish. I fail. I dream. I pray. Just. Like. You.

But I'm going to keep giving my life my everything. And you can keep judging me. Doesn't everybody?