I’ve been thinking this morning about my voice. Not the breath in my lungs. But the story I own. The true things I know. And the platform I’ve been graciously given to share those things. On the bad days it’s easy to think “Who am I to share anything with anyone?” … I have very little answers and I will be the first to admit it.
But I have a story, and it is important. And in an age where the witty statuses are plentiful I think we owe it to each other to share this other stuff, the dark stuff. The messy stuff. The stuff that brings depth and meaning to the good stuff. I’m starting to sound like that Tim McGraw song now so I had better move on to what I’m actually trying to say.
There is beauty in the broken places, because that’s how we find out we need to be mended, and that’s how we become strong and whole.
The most elusive thing is hope when you are dealing with anxiety. Hope that you will ever come out of the fog. But hope there is, and it’s okay if you need to admit that someone out there might be able to help you find it.
I always say that social media is both a blessing and a curse. A curse when you are dealing with the kind of stuff that doesn’t fit into a happy status. These can be extra hard times when hard seasons of the soul collide with everyone else’s happy season.
I’m not sure how to wrap this up nicely, and I think that might be the point after all. It’s ok to be IN PROGRESS, under construction, ok to be a little broken. Just know that there’s still beauty for you there. You have to look harder but it’s there. And please know that in whichever season we're in, there is hope for you. Reach out to someone close to you and ask for help for where to see it. It’s there, I promise. Hold onto it. These seasons will pass for us both, friends.