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Honesty. Sometimes, you have to admit, it’s overrated, (and sometimes you just don’t want to be honest, like today, I’m cringing as I write this because I don’t know how people will respond!) but as I was battling anxiety, depression, and feelings of abandonment, I was more honest with God than I had ever been before. I’d heard my whole life that I needed to pour out my soul to God, tell him anything and everything, but I didn’t think anyone actually meant that. I mean, are you really supposed to tell God that you feel like you’ve been duped by placing your trust in him? I felt like a kid who asked for a bike for Christmas and got a package of underwear instead–just underwear (seriously?). But I was at the bottom of the proverbial barrel, and pretending like everything was good, and I was fine, was not working anymore. So I let God know (often) that I felt like the Titanic, and I thought he might be the iceberg that had delivered the fatal blow, or at the very least, failed to rescue me. In other words, I thought he was really blowing it.
But somewhere in the back of my mind, I think I knew I didn’t have the whole story; and when I met “Jane,” my counselor, some pieces of that story began to fall into place. During one of our very first conversations after she listened to my story, we were sitting in Jane’s SUV in front of a strip mall in Chiang Mai, and she looked at me and said, “You’ve been given a gift. Now you just have to figure out how to unwrap it.” It was the last thing I expected to hear, and really, I thought she might be a little crazy. But I was willing to listen to how she thought all of this might actually end up being a gift.