I hate in-between times. Those moments right before a job change, a move, or the next stage in life. Those moments of waiting for a shift in our world. The waiting. Oh, the waiting. The waiting kills me.

That may sound dramatic, but seriously — this is the phrase I’m battling in my brain. Hiding that fact isn’t going to get me anywhere. Because we’re friends, it feels only right that I tell you I’m feeling pretty tender and vulnerable these days. I’m seeking transparency today.

I find myself asking the “How long?” questions. How long will this season last? How long will I feel discontent, uncertain, frustrated, discouraged? How long until I have peace? My heart longs for redemption, restoration, and reconciliation. I want sickness to be eliminated, peace throughout the earth, and my world to be put in proper order.

You should know — if you haven’t guessed already — that these days, I’m in-between.

These days, I often feel disconnected. I sit down with journal and pen in hand. I begin to write. I write my thoughts, my fears, my frustrations, my prayers — some get answered, others go unanswered. After I write all this I let it all sit there for a minute, and everything written, whether right our wrong, is there staring back at me.

And in the depth of my being I am anxious. I am uneasy. I want to flee. I want to share with you, but at the moment when I’m about to be transparent with you, fear stops me. I could easily write it all in this blog post, have it stare at me with a blinking curser, but then I’d delete it all. Fear and insecurity would win.

The truth is that I really don’t want you to know how I’m really doing. My story feels insignificant. I don’t want you to know my full story. If you did, what would you think of me?

And just like that, it all comes rushing back again. That internal struggle. That battle. This is my story.

These days, when I get to the end of  my day, sometimes my to do list is completed and I draw a sense of peace from that. Other days all I see is failure. Failure to do what needs to be done. Failure to be the woman, the friend, the wife, the servant I’m supposed to be. Mind you the temporary peace I experience through my accomplishments is false. It’s deceiving. It takes credit away from my creator.

Every bit of strength, in every ounce of my being, is battling lies. Battling the enemy. Fighting a war against an enemy who has already been defeated. Defeated but not gone. A cruel, smart, and conniving enemy.

You should know that I passionately believe in transparency. I believe in the power of story. When others have taken risks to pull back the curtain on the stage where they’re upfront and center, every flaw exposed, I am moved and changed. They stand in grace and let their raw and real selves be known. I’m always moved. Always amazed.

I believe in transparency but I’m seriously awful at it. This is my attempt to grow in this area of my life.

These days, I’m fighting a war with a defeated enemy while I sit in-between and wait for Him.

Honestly, the worst part about in-between isn’t the uncertainty, discouragement, or frustration. As much as I want to flee from these emotions, I think the worst part about in-between is that sometimes I think God likes when I’m here.

He wants me aware of this battle. He is after my heart. But I don’t want Him to have my heart, I want Him to give me what I want. I don’t want to wait anymore. That’s the transparent truth.

My fear and insecurity rob me of the freedom of transparency. I want to share my story. I want you to read the story God has given me the privilege to live so you can see Him, see His glory, see Himself in my life. But my own sin, my own unrighteous fear, leads me to question all that He made me to be and all He has lead me to experience. It leads me to question myself and my story. I’m so weak. I give in to the perfectionism. I don’t die to myself.

However, this in-between stage I’m living — this battle I’m fighting — is the point of my story.

The battle is always raging. The battle I’m experiencing is my story.

My story is a story of a recovering perfectionist.

This is a story of a girl who is learning to let go of the need for approval through my accomplishments, or lack thereof, and to stand in grace.

This is a story of how I’m surrendering my fear, and instead choosing peace.

This is a story of His power being made perfect in my weakness.

This is my story and it’s worth sharing.