The Best Is Yet to Come

And thus begins the deconstruction of my hardened heart,

                    
              as others' pain becomes more important than my own;
             
                                                        as I stop worrying about being right or wrong and just be;

                       as I realize I am as fallible as the next;

as actions become more important than words;

                                         as I learn forgiveness is a process, not immediate;

                 as I learn to love people for who they are and not who I want them to be;

                              as I learn to be content with what I have when I have it;


And while each hardened piece is chipped and melted away, the pang of regret, change, and reality sometimes steals my breath and leaves me trembling. Exposed. Jaded. Disbelieving.


And then a look,

                              a word,

                  an embrace,

        reminds me why I am here

and why I must continue this journey.


Because someone

                 somewhere

                         at some point

will be in these same shoes,

                   And at that time I will be able to say, I've been there too.

                                             Don't give up, the best is yet to come.

                      


                                                     

Less Like Scars

Over the past couple of months, I've slowly been getting to know my neighbors and the ministry they are a part of. They're just a bunch of young people living side by side with their neighbors and loving them in their imperfectness. Tonight I went to the girls' Bible study and met a bunch of the women leaders and neighborhood girls. My old self would have been petrified at the thought of purposefully walking into a room of strangers, but I found myself peacefully excited.

After the Bible study, a bunch of us went to Chick-fil-A for dinner. We sat for over an hour just talking about life, the kids, work, etc. And for the first time in a really, really long time, I felt like I had something in common with them; not just my degree or my religious or political beliefs, but a deep commonality that I haven't experienced in a very long time, if ever. I've met kindred spirits here and there, and I wouldn't necessarily say these girls are kindred spirits. But they're of one heart and one mind when it comes to our Savior and to these kids and our neighborhood... and I share it with them.

There's a song I sang at the one year anniversary of my best friend's death 10 years ago. I found myself listening to it again a few days ago, and I identify with the words now more than I did then. Although I feel like more of life is broken now than it was 10 years ago, I am beginning to find beauty in how He is putting it back together.

Take a minute to watch the video, listen to the lyrics:

"Less Like Scars"

by Sara Groves

 



It's been a hard year, but I'm climbing out of the rubble
These lessons are hard, healing changes are subtle
But every day it's

Less like tearing, more like building
Less like captive, more like willing
Less like breakdown, more like surrender
Less like haunting, more like remember

And I feel you here and you're picking up the pieces

Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
But you are able
And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars and more like character

Less like a prison, more like my room
It's less like a casket, more like a womb
Less like dying, more like transcending
Less like fear, less like an ending

And I feel you here, and you're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
But you are able
And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars

Just a little while ago
I couldn't feel the power or the hope
I couldn't cope, I couldn't feel a thing
Just a little while back
I was desperate, broken, laid out, hoping
You would come

And I need you
And I want you here
And I feel you

And I know you're here
And you're picking up the pieces
Forever faithful
It seemed out of my hands, a bad, bad situation
But you are able

And in your hands the pain and hurt
Look less like scars

And more like character

The Loner

My best friend and I had one of those conversations the other day where you see yourself as you really are, and you're not exactly happy with what you see. She and I have been through a lot together. She's seen the best and the worst in me and hasn't walked away. She's earned the right to be brutally honest with me, especially when I don't want to listen.

In a nutshell, she's worried about me. I've got a set of pretty good defense mechanisms that I use without even realizing it, and a lot of times it keeps me from community and I miss out on some pretty fantastic people. My rationale? If I am a loner by choice, at least I know it's because I chose it and not because they didn't respond to my efforts. So many times I've put myself out there for people, only to be met with... well, nothing. I'm very much an introvert, so I have to purposefully put myself out there to get to know people. I get tired of trying after so many times of being let down. In the end, I'm at risk of not trying at all.

I don't know how to fix something like this. I'm pretty selective about who I let in. If you ask me questions, I'm more than happy to answer, I just don't offer it without the asking. Does that make me unapproachable? Not knowing how to move past this doesn't mean don't try... I just don't know where to begin. I try to imagine what I'd say to one of my kids...

"Just because you're unsure of yourself doesn't mean take yourself out of the game. Take it step by step, day by day, interaction by interaction, person by person. And in time you'll get there, one relationship at a time."

I feel something in me churning to be better, do better. To love more, love bigger. To not be afraid of vulnerability. All the "what-ifs" keep clouding my mind.

"What's the worst that could happen? You don't become friends with that person, maybe your feelings get hurt from the rejection. But you pick yourself up and you dust yourself off, because tomorrow is a new day, and with each of these new experiences, you are becoming a new person. A stronger person."

Its time I take my own advice.

It's Been a Long Time Coming...

It's been a pensive night, as they all are when I sit down to think through writing. I've had a song running through my head for days now that pretty much sums up this past year. I'm not gonna lie, it's been a tough one. Really tough. Things that I never thought would happen in a million years happened. They happened to me, to my family, and it sent me reeling. I think it sent all of us reeling.

What do you do with dreams when they come crashing down around you?  I definitely don't know, so honestly, I haven't done anything. It used to be that whenever I didn't know how to deal with something, I would shut down. So its a sign of growth for me that instead of shutting down, I can fully admit that I just don't know. I don't know how to deal with everything that's happened over the past year, so I just keep going day by day. Wake up. Do the day. Go to bed. Wake up. Do the day. Go to bed. Sometimes that's all you can do. But after a while, a little bit of light starts to shine back through. Wake up. Notice the way the sunrise lights the clouds and the sky, and the city skyline looks breathtaking. Do the day. Go to bed. Even when life is trudgery, eventually our step will become a little more firm.

I can't say what's gone on this past year, but I can say that if I were to be totally, one hundred percent honest, I'd have to say that I've stopped talking to God. I might throw out a quick one-liner prayer for someone if its something really important, but other than that, it's been silent. You see, I've been left pretty disillusioned by life and the way things have turned out. Dreams that I once had, dreams that I was sure God had given me, all crashed down around me. I think I've been sitting there for a really long time just staring at the pieces, not even necessarily trying to sweep them up or wishing that I could glue them back together. I knew that those dreams had to change because they were making me discontent with where I was in the moment. "If only I could move back overseas to work with street kids, then I would be fulfilling God's purpose for my life." "I don't belong here. I never have. The only time I've ever felt at home was when I lived overseas." All these thoughts that had been running through my mind for ten long years left me in the deepest depression I've ever been in. I'd come to accept my depression as something that I'd deal with for the rest of my life, but it had never been like this before. I was so afraid that it would feel like that for the rest of my life... just so dark and hopeless. I had no idea what hope even was. It was such a foreign concept to me, like asking me to describe the Middle East or Asia or Russia when I've never been there. Hope was for people lucky enough to hear God, but not for me. He'd led me on with the promise of mission work overseas.

I don't exactly remember when those black days started getting lighter. It was such a gradual thing. Laughing a little bit more, smiling at quirky roommates, and eventually feeling free to be stupid-crazy goofy and totally not caring. What a freedom to be known as you really are! One day I turned around and I wasn't afraid of being by myself anymore. I could handle being alone in the house. I could cope with the thoughts inside my head and the weight in my heart. I can't tell you the day that the load got lighter, but it did. And even though I still wasn't speaking to God and definitely couldn't hear him or feel him, I saw that he was still taking care of me. I found strong, solid people in my church that I could be blatantly honest with, I could tell them that I didn't want to talk to God, and they weren't phased. They didn't condemn me, they didn't try to tell me it would get better. (There's something so infuriating about someone telling you that it's gonna get better when they haven't even really listened to what's been going on. It's a patronizing pat on the hand.) Most of the time, all we really need is for someone to listen, to accept us where we are in that single moment and to love us just the same, someone to sit there in the darkness with us for as long as it takes to see the daylight again.