I used to have this joke with my American Lit class that one day, I wanted to be Insta-famous. Insta-famous, for those who don’t have an Instagram account, is when you have a bajillion (or close to it) followers and any given picture you might post gets (at least) 200 or so “likes”, or little heart things. I’ve prided myself on my Instagram account since about junior year of college; I post a good mix of food pictures/nature pictures/selfies, I don’t use obnoxious filters or editing features, and I’m usually pretty on-point with my captions and puns. I literally have my Instagram open right now, and at least aesthetically, it looks pretty good.
And if you were doing an overview of my life these days using only my Instagram, you would think that my life looks pretty cool. You would see a lot of incredible national monuments, elephants, lots of coffee, new friends from all these gorgeous countries I’m getting to go to, a bunch of flags, beaches, flowers… and all these beautiful parts of my crazy, beautiful life.
Public Service Announcement: Instagram Lies
And I don’t mean to say that I haven’t drank some amazing coffee and made some sweet new friends and been awe-struck by different beaches and gotten to visit beautiful places, but I’m more than aware that we (read: I) can make life look really good when we up the brightness and change the vibrancy and filter in the good times and filter out the rough times. And if you and I haven’t talked in a while, and even if you and I have never talked, I want to let you in on something: This year is hard.
This year has rocked me. I’ve cried a lot this year. I’ve been angry a lot this year. I’ve thrown up a lot this year (not because of being happy or angry, but because sometimes you eat things that secretly want to murder you from the inside). God has asked me to give up some of the things and people I love most in this whole world without knowing exactly why. And it really sucks. And my heart has felt so broken and all I could do is sit and stare at the ceiling. And I’ve realized that, if the Holy Spirit is not directing me, I will always struggle with comparing myself to other women and being selfish with my time and money and being judgmental. I’ve had my understanding and previous definition of “community” totally wrecked and turned upside down. I’ve set goals that I haven’t met, I’ve sat in apathy, and I’ve watched life back home continue without me, all the while wondering (and doubting) if I’ll ever fit back into “normal life.” And my Instagram doesn’t show you any of that. My Instagram doesn’t show you the times that I’ve just wanted to check out of this year, the times when I’ve woken up from heartbreaking dreams and just wanted to be back in my bed in my parents’ house, or the times when I’ve felt so lonely that it made my stomach hurt. None of that makes the newsfeed.
And I’ve laughed a lot this year. And I’ve watched myself change in front of my eyes and I’ve watched myself grow so in love with Jesus that it brings me to (happy) tears. And I’ve sat on the tops of hills overlooking cities and proclaimed the goodness and sovereignty of the Lord over the entire nation. I’ve seen God keep His promises time and time again and I’ve seen the provision of Jehovah Jira and I’ve seen hearts change and walls come crashing down. I’ve left behind addiction to walk in freedom. I’ve marveled at the community that God has allowed me to be a part of this year and at the vulnerability and conversations we’ve shared. God has taken my surrendered plans and given me hopes and dreams for the future. I’ve read books that have blown my mind and listened to the waves crash against the shore and felt my utter smallness in contrast to God’s utter hugeness. And my Instagram doesn’t show you any of that. My Instagram doesn’t show you the realization of God’s promises, the quietness of being still and knowing that He is God, or the times I’ve laughed so hard I’ve cried. None of that makes the newsfeed, either.
And this isn’t news to any of us. I’ve had and heard multiple discussions with teammates about how “his life looks so awesome” and “she’s literally so perfect” and “their wedding was a dream” and we *know* that social media is a front. We know in our heads, and we try hard to remember in our hearts, that it’s not real life. It’s not even marketed as being real life (or, at least not so much anymore). But I think it can be so easy to forget; so easy to forget that life doesn’t happen in Reyes or Crema or Lark or X-Pro II. So easy to forget that life, even (read: especially) on the World Race, isn’t the crazy, constant, backpack-truckbed-sunset-elephant-adventure that Instagram paints it to be. It’s so much more. So much harder, so much sweeter, so much more mind-blowing, so much more full of God wrecking previous understanding and expectations and plans… so much more. And Instagram doesn’t show you any of that.
