Salvation, Death, & The Girl Upstairs

I am the product of my situation, the result of my belief, and the outcome of my upbringing.
My intelligence is insulted when someone asks about my accent, and I try to remain the same each time I am met.
I might announce that I am the proverbial "rose among the thorns", but I am neither a liar nor a narcissist, and I rather consider myself the thorn that grew among the roses, anyway.

I have met myself, on several occasions, when I cannot control my emotions during particularly chaotic situations, and those are the times when I love myself the least. Jesus is my strength, my Savior, my Rock, and I don't cling hard enough to Him, as I should, especially during these mentally-taxing trials.

Sometimes I imagine that I'm a prisoner in my own mind, feeling and knowing things that cannot be put into physical or verbal interpretation. Like being locked away from the world, and no one can really hear what I'm trying to say. I've always worn my heart on my sleeve, but things don't always come out the way they were rehearsed in my mind, like the difference between a dress rehearsal and the actual opening night. Of late, I've noticed that crowds, loud noises, and too many eyes all focused on me make the feelings worse, and too many times I've ran from a room in order to have a small mental breakdown in the bathroom where no one is looking... If this is my lot in life, I'll bear it 'til Death, for there are much worse things that could befall us while we're here...

As for death itself, although I've attended my share of funerals, I have been blessed enough to not know the sting of Death on anyone closer than my grandparents. Death is a part of life, and once born, it is inevitable that we will all face it. It is the mystery behind Death that calls our faith into question, and our fear into existence. I know what lies on the other side, but when that Unseen Hand is thrust my way, I cannot deny that I expect myself to be afraid.

But fear is vain, if we have One to hold onto. In a relatively easy and uneventful life, I cannot complain too heavily about difficulties, as there are always many who are suffering much worse than I ever will. My husband reminds me often about my blessings and how all my needs are taken care of in this life. It is a sting to my pride, when he does this reminding, but it is also a humbling thing to hear the person you love most gently chide you like a child when you know you're in the wrong.

Alas, I am naught but a whisper of wind in this world; stirring the grass one moment and moving on to greener pastures the next. I expect there will never a book be written about what little I have done here, and how easily we are forgotten once we journey on... But if I never leave my mark on this world, it is nothing to me, for the Mark that has been left on my heart is enough to propel me to the Next...