Aim Adjustment

Frustration. Anger. Pity Party.

Emotions frozen on my face. 

Love, joy, and peace-filled? Hardly.

More like jealous, self-abased.

Still I longed for friends' approval

Thus I set my sights, my aim.

Thinking that by exhaustion's removal

Rest I would finally gain.

But is rest truly the opposite

Of exhaustion or is there something more?

Is rest truly competent

To equal fullness, fully restored?

Or must there be an element

That translates rest to strength?

That makes approval relevant?

That allows for peace at length?

Deep down I knew there had to be

So all the more I sought.

True friendship I attempted to see,

But the more I struggled, the more we fought.  

I felt the feelings of a kid.

Friends felt my floundering, too.

Nothing to give. Every step a skid.

"I'm not enough. I cannot do."

A day of mercy unexpected,

An hour of hope, a word of grace.

Suddenly--conversations connected. 

Maybe I could find my place.

For the first time I saw beyond

The end I had fought for so.

And with that facade finally gone

I saw I'd set my sights quite low.

When the approval of man was a must,

I'd chained myself to failure's fate.

By demanding my friends' love and trust,

I'd wearied myself with worthlessness' weight. 

In seeking to not be a child,

I'd displayed some of the most immature traits.

And while claiming rest meant recompiled,

I'd forgotten the One Who must reinstate. 

Or maybe I didn't forget Him truly...

Maybe I never really knew His heart. 

Perhaps this called for seeking newly; 

Perhaps this called for a clean, fresh start.

Who is this God I claim as mine?

What is my identity? 

What will happen if I find

The power of a His presence fully?

What will happen if I hear

His heart-song over me?

What does it mean to reverantly fear

The God of Eternity?

Yet not quite there, I thought, "I get it!

If I seek God's approval, I'll get man's indeed."

Gently, He said, "No child. Quit it.

Seek My approval, and it's all you'll need.

Pursue My Love, and you'll overflow;

You'll have excess to give.

Be a woman who my heart knows; 

Then trustworthiness you'll live.

Adorn yourself with humble compassion

And in all who you meet you will beauty see.

Carry yourself as Jesus-fashioned.

It's not about you. It's all about Me."

I felt grateful tears melt frustration

And realized they no longer stemmed from defeat.

Not "I am not enough" desperation.

Rather, "He is exhaustive; He is complete."