“How are you?” Never have I been more stumped by three little words than during transition. How am I? Do you really want to know or do you just want me to say “Good. Fine.” and move on with your life? Nothing else can wreak more havoc, sadness, exhaustion, and confusion than moving. Moving isn’t just moving from a house, it’s usually moving countries which means we are losing friends, connections, familiar places, a way of life. The ripping noise of packaging tape on cardboard and the thump, thump of making sure it’s in place is all too familiar and can evoke a mixture of feelings. Have you ever felt the need to “be strong” and to “keep it together?”

Saying good-bye to memories, friends, family, and friends who are like family leaves gaping holes in one’s soul that can be overlooked and discarded under the mask of duty, faith, strength, and it being “all part of the job.” 

If I was to be really vulnerable, my answer to those dreaded three words of “How are you?” would be, “I’m a hot mess. I just want to roll up into a little ball, cry my guts out, eat chocolate, binge Netflix, and never see another soul!” It’s a hard place to be and one that we tend to not want the public to see. I sometimes fall under the lie that because I’m following God’s will I should be fine. I shouldn’t be sad or weak because it’s an adventure with Jesus! I should be excited! Telling how I really feel is exposing. It’s a vulnerability that is risky and can cause fear and doubt. Or does it? 

Perhaps if we were more honest with our children, our friends, our family, our sponsors, and ourselves, the superhuman global worker stereotype would become less super and more human, someone more relatable, someone who can be comforted and embraced. 

My favorite part of the book of Psalms is not the eloquent verses of praise, as amazing and inspiring as they are. What touches me the most are the gut-wrenching cries of despair, hurt, and sadness King David shared with all humanity. He was brutally honest with himself, with the God he served and, now, all his readers. I can relate to his feelings of betrayal, being forgotten, and despair. I have been there. He was a hot mess and he was not afraid to write about it. He never stopped at the bottom of the miry pit, though. He always brought it back around and remembered the faithfulness of God, the majesty and power of His Master, the love and care He felt at his darkest times. 

As I read through the Psalms, I, too, remember God’s faithfulness through the many transitions. I recall the provision He has made. I’m moved by His tender touches of comfort, the reminders that I’m not alone, and that it is ok I’m a hot mess. He isn’t intimidated by the depravity of my emotional state. He loves me just the same. He sees me and He sees you, too.

So, really, how are you?