I often treat my life like a GPS – linear, predictable, and identical to every other screen on the road. For a long time, I viewed my introversion and my inability to feel normal as a technical glitch. I compared my withdrawn, internal processing to the high-speed, multi-lane highways of those around me, convinced I was lost because I wasn’t moving at their pace. I felt like a paper map in a digital age: cumbersome, folded in “weird” ways, and difficult for others to read.
But comparison is a faulty compass. It tries to steer you toward someone else’s destination using a trail meant only for them.
The truth is, a highway gets you there fast, but a hand-pressed map takes you where the engines can’t go. My abnormality isn’t a detour; it is a scenic overlook. It’s the ability to see the details in the periphery – the quiet needs, the deep reflections, and the steady truths that the “normal” world ignores in its rush. My purpose isn’t found in paving over my unique terrain to look like a freeway; it’s in realizing that some people need the quiet trail I’ve been marking out.
“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do,” (Ephesians 2:10).
Perhaps your struggle isn’t with a solitary nature, but with a life that feels like it’s stuck in the wilderness. You might feel like your map is covered in ink blots of past failures or physical hurdles that make you feel like you’re going nowhere. But remember that the Architect drew your boundaries. Your off-road experiences – the parts of you that feel broken or misplaced – are often the very landmarks someone else will use to find their way home.
~ Leah Burnett
Christ Fellowship