Beauty in the Brokenness

Beauty in the Brokenness

I originally wrote this blog post in the spring of 2018. I finally feel brave enough today to share it with all of you. Be kind. And if you know someone struggling, I hope you feel inspired to reach out and encourage them.

Okay, wait. Slow down. Tell me more about that. Why would you take it upon yourself to try to fix or handle things for other people when it wasn’t your responsibility? I sat in silence staring at the counselor for a moment, trying to compose myself enough to answer her question.

I guess because I don’t ever want them to feel the way I’ve felt before.

And how’s that? How have you felt before?

…Alone.

It was only a few weeks earlier that I called my best friend at 10 PM in tears. Okay, I conceded. You win. I think it’s time to go to counseling. I’d sat staring at a blank screen with a blinking cursor one too many times, and I couldn’t take it anymore. When God presses into your last and most important outlet, you finally listen.

I’ve mentioned before it’s been a rough few years. And when I found myself in the middle of a nervous breakdown as 2017 came to a close, one of my closest friends pushed and pushed. I really think you should talk to someone. I didn’t want to hear it. It hurt to hear her say those words; for her to assume I couldn’t handle things on my own. I’m fine. I can do this myself. I don’t need any help. I’m fine.

Despite my claims, everything started to feel really heavy. Too heavy. Bigger than me. And when God took away my words, I knew it was time.

Setting up the first appointment was the hardest part. I’d never been to counseling before. I had a lot of respect for anyone who got help when they needed it–but that wasn’t me. Wasn’t I strong enough to deal with things on my own? I could handle whatever life had to throw at me. My life isn’t that hard. Was I admitting defeat if I sat on a couch and cried to a stranger? Did that make me weak? I wrestled with all the internal thoughts for months. Everyone close to me insisted it was time.

You’ve been through a lot, they all said. Big things. Messy things. It’s okay to ask for help.

But I don’t ask for help. That’s not in my nature. I take care of people. I do all the things always. That’s who I am. What did it mean that I couldn’t do this on my own?

But I swallowed my pride, and I told myself if I was going to do this, I was going to do it. I promised myself I’d show up, be vulnerable, and that I’d be open to the process.

I didn’t know what to expect. I certainly didn’t expect to have my heart cracked open and my perspective shattered. Session after session, my heart started to find relief; peace. So much has happened, things I’ve agonized over. Things I could have done better; things I should have done better. Things I had no idea how to walk through, not on my own.

Weirdly enough, I once heard Life Coach Jay Pryor on an episode of the Being Boss Podcast share his mantra on things like that, and it’s stuck with me. He confessed he’d tell himself It’s okay, you’ve never done this before.

I’d never lost a parent before. I’d never started a company or dissolved a partnership before. I’d never been a caretaker for a parent after major surgery before. And I’d never completely lost myself before.

It’s funny to think that there’s beauty in the brokenness. But there really is something beautiful in what you can learn about grace when you’re face down in the dirt. Life knocks us all down at times. What kicks my knees out from under me may not be the same for you. But the feeling is all the same. Brokenness is brokenness.

I don’t think I’m alone in my initial mission to keep my head down and trudge forward no matter what life threw at me. I know I’m not alone in my I-can-do-this-myself way of thinking. And I’m sure others subscribe to the theory that asking for help is a sign of defeat.

But it was never God’s intent for us to go through life alone. That’s why he made Eve for Adam. And the irony isn’t lost on me that I found my way to counseling through the support of those who love me, when what I needed most to rectify was that feeling of being alone. Alone in life. Alone in business. Alone in all the things that scared me into panic attacks in the dark of night.

Your love language is acts of service, my counselor observed. But when do you give those who love you the most the opportunity to serve you? They can’t if you do it all yourself.

Touché.

I don’t know what you may be struggling with right now, but I do know you don’t have to go through it alone. I realize we all have different thresholds for brokenness. And what might feel heavy for me may be a cake walk for you. But if you keep trying to push away the nagging maybe I should talk to someone thought, know there’s no shame in getting help. Seeking counsel is often times the best thing you can do for yourself, the best way to give yourself a shot at staying afloat.

Anticipation of Change

Anticipation of Change

When my husband came home unexpectedly only shortly after leaving for work, I knew why before I even opened the door to find his eyes rimmed red. He’d lost his job. The job we relied on 100%. That job provided our house, our insurance, and our only source of income.

So, now what?

That was the loss. And if you read last week’s post, you know that change follows loss. But what I didn’t mention was that it doesn’t always come right away.

Sometimes, what’s harder than the change itself is the anticipation of the change.

Coping anticipation change

The void was instant, the change was imminent. Uncertainty knocks the wind out of you. You’re a hamster on a wheel, desperate to find solutions, grasping at straws. You’re rushing for resolution. This is about the time when people tell you to be patientEverything will work out. You’ll be fine. God has a plan.

I heard it all in those months of waiting out the unknown. The stress and panic and anxiety constantly gripping my throat.

I’ve uttered those same phrases to my Mom the last few months. You see, we lost my dad last year, and we just put her house (my childhood home) on the market. A change that followed loss that we anticipated all year.

It’s in the anticipation of change where you learn to let go and let God. Because anything else fuels the panic. You’ve done all you can do, and all that’s left is the waiting. The unfolding of a grander plan. It’s crippling. Paralyzing. Frustrating and terrifying.

But if you let it, it can also be a beautiful rejuvenation of the soul.

Let change breathe life back into you. A chapter closed means a new one can begin. Endings are hard, that I know for certain. Loss is excruciating. And change can feel like the enemy. But I believe in the beauty of chance. I believe in God’s timing and plan for your life, for my life. And while it’s hard to understand why in the moments of loss and pain and fear, I do believe loss and change to a be rescue mission. A saving grace stepping in to move you on, to pick you up after your fall and guide you onto your new path. A path you may have otherwise ignored or missed altogether.

Because the truth is, we don’t often welcome change into our lives. But change can really be the most beautiful gift of all.

All it takes a little of hope, a lot trust, a few deep breaths.