Good. Great?

In twelve days, I will turn 28 years old, but I still feel like I'm 13 sometimes. Thirteen was my heinous age. I was in seventh grade, and it was hellacious. That "flailing" feeling is haunting me lately. I'm struggling to find my purpose, my place.

I realized this week that I'm "good" at a lot of things, but not "great" at much. My execution as an overachiever has never fallen short, but it's only because of my extra effort---not natural ability. For instance, I'm can knit a pretty scarf, but only using one continuous stitch. I can entertain you with my blogging, but I can't seem to get any freelance work.

Maybe this is also the way I feel when it comes to my dating relationships. I'll do, but I'm not the first choice. I want to be someone's "great."

I promise I'm not knocking myself. I happen to really like me. And I am well aware of my "greatness" and worth in the eyes of my Lord. Don't you dare try to throw me a pity party. Life can't always be peaches and cream, and I guess that's okay. It's reality, anyway.