“And He will use your brokenness. He will make it gold and it will be worth it.”
I have never felt more shattered than I have in these last weeks. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is that is exaggerating my humanness more than usual, but whatever it is, it feels like a sharp knife making a home in the middle of my back.
My friend, Kaitlin, said these words quoted at the top to me today as I truly allowed all of my glass pieces fall to the ground; when I finally let my brokenness break.
The truth is, I have lost myself. Somewhere over the last month or so, the core of who I am ran far away, out of my being, and has yet to return. I've searched for her, high and low, between the cracks, in the darkness of shadows. I'm beginning to give up hope -- thinking she may never come back. The worst of it is, what caused it all is completely unknown to me. All I'm thinking is, "If I just knew, I would find her so fast and bring her back even faster." The thought crossed my mind today, "Maybe writing will help me get back to myself." By this point of a blog post, I have untangled the mess that is my heart and have moved on to the redemption portion. So far, no redemption. I know it's deep down in there somewhere, but rarely does it ever take this long for my foggy eyes to see it.
Wowza. That was hard to read and it was only from a matter of hours ago.
For going on five years now, this has been my public, for-all-eyes-to-see diary. There have been few parts of my life kept private. Special things and moments-in-between have been for me to treasure behind the screen, but in the big things, the aches, pains, and massive hurts; the victories, the questions and the decisions, I have put it all out there, on here. Mostly for me -- to keep me accountable, to remind myself that most of what I'm feeling is temporary and emotional, not factual and definitely not for an eternity. But also for the sole purpose of bringing community to a space where there seems to be a lack thereof. I see vulnerability plastered all over the internet, but it's often put to pretty melodies of words intentionally placed or glazed over with a tasteful frosting. Although I believe there is a wonderful place for this kind of vulnerability, I believe in the raw stuff too. Specifics cannot always be relayed and there's no way to completely share all that is happening in our hearts, especially with words, I realize this, but there is beauty in word vomit. Spilling everything that you're thinking or feeling into this void; this black hole that we seem to rush to when we're lonely and confused and needing affirmation. Lonely, confusion and affirmation can be solved in the loving arms of Jesus, but sometimes you need a someone, a community, an hour dedicated to writing to push you to Him.
So my question is: are we truly there for one another? Although I have spilled my guts to this corner of the world wide web, have I seen / noticed the pain of those who might be reading this and of those who are right in front of me? And have I been seen / noticed in return?
My best friend is experience a heartbreak right now. She's aching. But I am in Germany and she is in Minnesota. Her darkness feels terribly dark, but have I shed light on it? The circumstances -- time difference, lack of wifi, ect. -- make it difficult to connect, but there must be some way to be present in her pain.
And then there's this awful scab that continues to be exposed to the elements around me, making it harder and harder to heel. And I feel misunderstood. It doesn't seem like anything I could have said or done this past week would have made it clearer to those close to me what was stirring in my head, heart and soul.
And here I am again, shouting into this place that rarely gives a response, processing and wondering. I'm not looking for an email saying, "You're doing great! I'm here for you!" ...That's not at all what is going on here. I am seriously asking the question of how we can better come alongside one another, walking next to each other in heartbreak, chaos, tragedy, victory, the mundane and ordinary, etc. I want to be better at it. I also want to find a balance of loving on and creating space for the aches, but simultaneously handing it over to Jesus for Him to handle in completeness.
I fear that so many are sitting in loneliness with no way out and no hope for light at the end of their tunnel. I also fear that social media has glorified pain and made it seem a bit too desirable, in an odd way? Just because I can sometimes identify the cracks in my heart does not mean that I have it together. And just because I can post a photo of red peonies from the summertime with a wonderful little quote about the beauty of suffering does not mean that I've got my head on straight. I called my mom that same day sobbing so hard she couldn't understand me. I was angry just minutes before posting it because there was not one single place to have a private conversation without interruptions. I sat in the corner of a laundry room having a hard and dreaded conversation with my boyfriend. And yet, there I was, only sharing a tiny glimpse at what my day had entailed.
So I guess there's more being held in this blog post. I have more questions leaving this than I did when I began. The point is I want to notice pain. And I want to embrace it both in my own life and in the lives of others. I want to see the suffering that floats around us and love on it in ways that makes it feel less lonely. And in the end, I want Jesus to be the only one relied on to heal any wound, any broken heart. I want Him to get credit for any redemption. He promises not to waste a minute of our time and He is faithful to finish anything He has started. He will make it gold if you let Him.
Once again this has served as a public diary for all of my thoughts and questions to be put into words. If you read this whole thing, congratulations, it was a long one. I'm sure Nanc is my only faithful reader, though. So thanks mom -- you're a good & loyal mom. I love ya!
That's all xx