i am

i am alot of things. i'm a girl, a girl who never uses capitals when writing colloquially, a student who never sticks with formal studies, a farm child who lives in the city. i'm the culmination of all my life experiences, the tragedies and moments of utter euphoria. we each are, there is a justification based on our life experiences for nearly every moment of our days, but that's a dignity i don't extend to other's as often as i ought.
if i hate driving in the city, because i have never known 'rush hour' before, and i despise it's reality in my life, what's to say that the aggressive driver to my right doesnt have an equally intrinsic reason for how he mans his vehicle? i am not picky to the point that i'm worse than a picky person, and i know it's annoying, but i can't seem to help it, but i'm the middle child of 5, i'm the peace maker, i hate conflict, so not having an opinion has always been safer. our personality and character are a direct result of our life experiences, its so simple, and i know it is true for me, so why, when i'm annoyed by another, do i not stop to wonder what caused this trait to take root in their life? the more i invest in another persons story, the more i understand why they are the way they are, the less the little nuances of their personality are an annoyance to me, they are a reminder to me that we are each created uniquely, that we are woven together with cords of different lengths and textures and colors. we may have encountered a similar spot in our individual stories, or even shared a corporate experience, but how that shaped us is not necessarily the same, how it has manifested itself in and thru us, may look incredibly different. i need to realize this, i need to allow this to take root in me, in my mind, in my heart.
if i expect others to not just take all of me at face value, there is absolutely no excuse for me to anticipate that others are less complex. we may be living a genuine life, but living a genuine life doesnt mean that we get to hand each individual we encounter a manuscript of our life story, so that they understand the motive and history behind our every action. this is clearly not a reality. this has been on my mind alot lately, if i claim to care about other people, if i claim to want to react to others in the manner that Jesus did, then i need to start to consciously realize that everyone has a story, a story that they almost certainly do not present in its entirety from the outset.
i am humbled by how incredibly short i fall, and yet i know that as i realize my shortcomings, He is rejoicing over me with His love, as i take the steps toward being more like the model of His son that i see presented to me. His grace astounds me. i pray it astounds you today as well.
i don't know if this makes any sense at all, but it's been on my heart alot lately, and thus it's fairly stream of conscience, muddled and the like, but i make no apologies. i'm introspective, self depreciating, yet selfish... aren't all 'bloggers'? ha.