I write and share my heart with you to connect and inspire and encourage. I let you into the hard places of my life, but it’s controlled and edited, and I have come out on the other side of the struggle and have found the silver lining. My stories are honest and genuine, but by the time they reach the page, they are carefully chosen and beautifully wrapped and tied with a bow, no loose ends; just a neat little package ready to be opened.
But today I am smack dab in the middle of the hard. I’m in the darkness and I can’t find the light or the silver lining. It’s not one thing in particular. It’s everything. Nothing seems to be as it should. This year of cancer and chemo and fighting every day to keep my head above water has taken a toll on every area of my life. I’m just so weary. And I waiver between wanting to jump in my car and drive far away or crawl into bed and put the covers over my head and make the darkness even darker.
I just feel broken and exhausted and hopeless. I feel like my heart has a million little cracks and the damn is about to break and the tears are seeping out of every crevice and flooding my soul. I feel like I’m drowning. And it’s not one thing that is breaking me today. It’s the weight and burden of all that has happened. It’s the heaviness of facing my mortality. It’s the urgency of digging deep within to face both the good and the bad of who I am. It’s the toll that disease has taken on my body and my mind and my relationships. And it’s the anger that seeps in and makes me question everything and leaves me feeling alone and bitter.
Today I come to you a tattered mess. I don’t have the energy to inspire or encourage. I’m not looking for sympathy or advice. I just want to be honest. There is no pretty wrapping or beautifully tied bow, just me with all my faults and all my pain. I feel sad and defeated. But for some reason, I want to share my mess with you. I want to share with you while I’m still in the midst of the hard because it’s lonely and isolating. I want to expose the shame that comes with living in the darkness. And I think if I can share when I am at my worst, if I can let people in when things are ugly, if I am willing to be vulnerable, I can turn the darkness into something useful and comforting and worthy. So I decided to not run away or pull the covers over my head. Instead, I am sitting in the dark and writing and waiting for just a little light to peak through. I’m trusting that tomorrow I will wake to find a new day with new hopes and possibilities. And I’m praying that next time you find yourself hopeless and in the dark, you will know you are not alone.
Cheers to a brighter tomorrow.
God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up.
They’re created new every morning. How great your faithfulness! – Lamentations 3:22-23