I walk out of my room towards the kitchen, needing to get some breakfast in me before the nausea hits.
My brothers are talking up a storm. One of them laughs loudly — too loudly. The other brother is finishing up breakfast, clanging dishes in the sink. Every single light in the kitchen and dining room is on.
I’ve talked to my brothers about this before. I need quiet and calm in the morning. I wake up struggling; the added noise, lights, and chatter makes my body hurt more. Can they please be quieter? Not clang dishes around? Not laugh so loudly? Not turn on every single light?
We are all adults. We should be able to live peaceably with each other. But no. Both of my brothers get agitated with my requests for quiet. They tell me it isn’t fair to hush them. One brother tells me to get over it. The other tells me that the noise “cannot possibly hurt you as much as you say it does.” They both think if I want a quiet morning, I should just get up earlier, before they do. They don’t understand how difficult that would be for me. And then there’s the conflict of me trying to explain that, yes, the noise and lights do hurt me a great deal and, no, me forcing myself up earlier is not the solution.
The noise. The lights. The conflict. And my family wonders why I spend so much time alone in my room with the door shut. It’s the only place I can control my environment.
I stop talking. Arguing about it is only going to make my feel worse. I get through breakfast quickly as possible, go back to my room, crawl back in bed, and pull the blankets up over my head.
“God, they don’t understand. They don’t even care,” I cry.
“Maybe not. But they’re human,” God answers, “They’re never going to perfectly understand or always care. But I do understand, and I will always care. Why don’t you spend some time with Me and let Me tend to these wounds?”
One of my favorite passages for when I’m feeling misunderstood or not cared about is Psalm 139.
Verses 1-4 read, “O Lord, You have searched me and known me. You know my sitting down and my rising up; You understand my thoughts afar off. You comprehend my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. For there is not a word on my tongue, but behold, O Lord, You know it altogether.”
Verse 13 states, “For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb.”
Verse 15 and 16 note that “my frame was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret…” and “Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.”
God truly does understand. He even understands me better than I understand myself.
Verse 5 says, “You have hedged [or protected] me behind and before, and laid Your hand upon me.”
Verses 7-10 say that no matter where I am or where I go, “You [God] are there” and “Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me.”
Verses 11-12 remind me that even the darkest times will not conceal me from God’s presence because “the darkness and the light are both alike to You.”
Verse 17-18 state, “How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How great is the sum of them! If I should count them, they would be more in number than the sand; When I awake, I am still with You.”
How precious this chapter is to me! Humanity, even my own family, may falter in understanding and care towards me, but God never does! The truth of Scripture reminds me of His deep love for me.
Thank you, Father, for understanding and caring.