Verity Means “Truth”

Verity's eyes were pinned on the granola bar in front of her. She picked it up, turned it over in her hand, pressed it against her lips, then put it back down.

"Eat that before 11." Her father's voice commanded her attention, but instead of turning toward it, she glanced up at the clock. A quarter till.

The 17-year-old nodded her head slightly, long, wet hair bobbing, then listened as her father's footsteps receded into his office room. Verity waited a few seconds before taking a big bite of the granola bar. And she chewed.

Plastic baggie in hand, Verity padded into the pantry on bare feet. Her mouth was still full, and she had no intention of swallowing. If her dad wanted her to eat, she would "eat". It would make him feel better.

Brown liquid plopped from her mouth into the bag. She spit again, and again. Then, placing the warm zip-lock in her pocket, she tip-toed back out to the kitchen counter, where the rest of her granola bar waited for her to begin the process all over again.

Later, down in her room, Verity googled the definition of "eat" on her computer. To "put (food) into the mouth and chew and swallow it." Oops... so she hadn't really eaten. Well, her father had never come back out of his office to find and ask her whether she had, truly and actually, fully consumed that granola bar, so she let her conscience remain numb.

Toddlers need to be told to eat, not girls in their late teens. Verity put a fist to her forehead. And anyway, toddlers will usually come find you to tell you they're hungry. Well, I don't feel hungry, Verity reasoned. That was mostly true.

But now she had to figure out what she would do about lunch. And life... no, she couldn't think about that now. She sighed. The way she was looking at things right now reminded her of the song "Do the Next Right Thing"- from a children's movie- except, for her, "Do the Next Wrong Thing" would be a more accurate title.

Verity couldn't look that far ahead, not now. This was her surviving. She knew she'd pay the consequences later, but somehow, she just did not feel like she cared.

THIS IS MY TRUE STORY, though my name is Rylie, which means "courageous" instead of "truth". I'VE NOT BEEN COURAGEOUS, I'VE NOT BEEN TRUTHFUL, AND THOSE ARE JUST THE FACTS. But I find comfort in a song I've heard recently, called "Lean" by Nichole Nordeman. Here is a chorus, the words sung to God... which I want to make my cry, as well:

"I COULD STAND,

I COULD FALL,

YOU WANT ALL OF ME.

I COULD RUN,

I COULD CRAWL,

YOU WILL ALWAYS BE.

YOU'RE NOT IMPRESSED WITH ALL OF MY BEST,

NOT DISAPPOINTED WHEN I DON'T LAND ON MY FEET.

EVERYTHING YOU ARE ASKING ME...

To lean."

I'M HOLDING ONTO THAT, for: grace and truth came through Jesus Christ (John 1:17)- who is: the way, and THE TRUTH, and the life (John 14:6).