I’ve never told this story.

I remember the day almost as if it was happening right now. I am fourteen years old. I am sitting on the back patio of my childhood backyard, watching my dad mow the lawn while my dog runs around in the freshly cut grass. I’m staring at this happy, mundane suburban scene, but I see my life falling apart before my eyes.

There I sat, knees drawn in, tears swimming in my eyes. I won’t go into the details because they don’t matter. All I will say is that I felt empty. Nothing particularly traumatic had happened. It wasn’t any one thing that brought me here. I was sitting in a comfortable, high-end lawn chair, smack dab in the middle of a mess of broken relationships and lies.

I didn’t understand what was wrong with me. I lived in this safe, suburban home, with loving parents and a great brother and clean, running water and access to a good education. Even I could see that from the outside, I was living this perfect life.

If my life was so perfect, why did I feel like a shell of a person?

Why was it so hard for me to get up in the morning?

Fourteen year-old me was so, so lonely. I felt isolated, abandoned and misunderstood. In that moment the thought came upon me like a cold, comforting wind- how easy it would be to just give up. I knew full well the consequences and people I would leave behind, but honestly, I was struggling to find the point to all of this.

A still, small voice cut through that darkness, speaking to my heart- Just wait.

That voice, that Spirit, is the only- and I tell you the truth, the only thing that has kept me here.

It didn’t end, though. The waiting and the staying here, it seemed, were more painful than their alternative. There were so many times I started to tell people, then stopped- so many letters started then crumpled up and thrown away. There was always an excuse- I didn’t think people would believe me, for one thing. I didn’t feel that they would take me seriously. I wasn’t sure if anyone would care. Eventually, this memory grew so detached from me that I almost forgot it was real.

(Attention: this is not shading any of my past friends- trust me, I love you all and I’mgrateful for the impact you’ve had on my life. My loneliness was not your fault or mine.)

My aloneness persisted, though. For a while, I thought I was okay. All too soon, though, that foggy sense of reality came back. Yes, I had friends. I had acquaintances. Was I still lonely? Yes. Once again, I was trapped- cornered with nowhere else to turn.

I can’t stress this point enough: God provides even when we cannot see Him.

As previously mentioned, I had a past of imperfect relationships. But time and prayer heal in ways greater than you can imagine. After years- years- of prayer, God has now given me an incredibly strong friendship with two of the most remarkable young women I’ve ever met. They encourage me to accomplish my dreams. Best of all, we’ve been given the privilege of reflecting Jesus’ love every day.

Beyond that, in the short time I’ve been at Bethel, I’ve met so many people who are one of the following: writers, depressed, or going into the mission field. I talked to a girl the other day who switched her major from education to communications with a psych minor, which is literally me. God is opening doors in ways I never thought possible even a short time ago. It just goes to show how small I am in comparison to the greatness of His plan.

Just wait, He told me.

I am so, so glad I listened. Things looked hopeless, and maybe they were. But I’d go through it all again if it meant I’d end up where I am right now.

Years later, contrary to popular opinion, I’m not perfect! (Ha). I still struggle. I am not as open about this struggle as I should be, perhaps, but I’m getting better. Mostly I am in awe of how God is using my struggle- something that once pulled me down so far I thought I could not get up again- to buoy myself and others up. God can use anything.

Here is my message to those like me. Here is my message to the lonely, the sad, the screw-ups, the broken and hurting: God uses our dust to make beautiful things. There is no person, no life, no heart beyond the reach of His repair, no wound His love cannot heal.

I know because I’ve been there: it will not be easy. It breaks my heart to know, see and hear the suffering you will likely endure, and likely already have. But take heart. Draw into Him, trust His plan.

Just wait.

It will get better.