Yellow. For the longest time I ignored it; always annoyed by how it stood out so vividly. As if it were screaming for attention it never could win.
Beauty. For the longest time I obsessed over a certain idea of what defined it. As if there were a universal criterion that determined whether or not you possessed it.
The revelation of yellow’s importance made itself known during a season filled with black and white. Monochromatic colors don’t say much, and neither did I. It was as if they understood what I was going through inside.
So, I filled my life with shades of gray–any color that didn’t tell me I was living the wrong way. Any color that didn’t acknowledge how dark my soul was. Instead, the two merged, and I was led to believe that everything was going good.
Eventually the truth spoke out. I found myself crying alone in the dark. I was broken and out of hope—wanting so badly to give up. I imagined how I’d end my life, yet never attempted to do it. I began wondering why. I realized it was because my being is rooted in Christ. Deep inside, I knew that my parents raised me better than that, and because of what they’ve taught me, I had to do my best to stay alive. It was my turning point, yet still, no steps were taken.
Finally, I built up enough strength to pick myself up and attempt to keep going. It was so hard, but I realized that no one else was going to do this for me. No one else could. If I decide to give up, it will be the end of my existence on Earth, and that’s not what I wanted. I just wanted to start over—to not have to sort out the mess that I am. But that’s not an option we’re given, is it? Instead, we must work things out and be persistent.
No matter how deep in a ditch you may be, eventually, everything does become okay. And someday we’ll see why the mountains we climbed were put in our way. They taught us things that we wouldn’t have learned any other way–things we need to know, before we reach our ultimate calling in life. The difficulty made us understand.
See, we all go through storms; some more intense than others, because all of us have different destinies. But let’s keep in mind that gold is made pure by fire, and so are we. Every storm we go through is put there for our own good. In the midst of the chaos it can be so hard to believe that. But this is only a season. It’s not going to last forever. And after the storm passes, the beauty that follows will make up for all the pain. You may end up with scars and a few ugly bruises, but, darling, those are your medals. Despite how hard it was, you endeavored and you kept going. You can be proud, because the only way you can truly fail is by not finishing, and you’re still here. So, no matter what the voices tell you, the truth is that you’re doing so well. You’re amazing. You’re an inspiration. You’ve got this. Keep going. Keep pursuing your passion.