healing – She Speaks True Words

Running to what lies ahead.

I went for a run the other day.

I laced up my shoes with trepidation and determination, wanting to know what I was capable of. I’ve endured chronic pain for five years since breaking my foot that is slowly, finally, becoming something that I barely notice in the background of my life. I could write for days about everything I went through to get to where I am today.

Stronger. Wiser. In tune with my body.

It turns out, I’m not as rusty as I thought. I ran over a mile without stopping and I couldn’t have been more proud of myself. My kids were pretty proud of me, too.

Just as my body went through so much chronic pain and I tried to pray over and find my way into healing, my life went through a lot, too. The hardships I have endured have had me crying out for mercy in the midst of the challenges, knowing they were temporary yet choosing to have faith in each day of the journey, trusting that in each step of the process I would find hope and healing.

And just as my body will never be perfectly healed, just as I know I will have to adapt and continually stretch and strengthen my muscles, I will have to keep seeking my own personal growth and healing, too. This healing isn’t linear but rather is a constant learning of oneself. It is accepting life as it is and embracing the gifts in the everyday.

It’s easy to blame everything and everyone outside ourselves when things don’t go according to plan. But really, we may have a plan but oftentimes life throws a wrench in things, reminding us there is very little we actually have control over. We have control over our hearts, our attitudes, our hope and our faith. We have the choice to push ourselves through adversity and know that everything is temporary; we have so much to give and receive in this life if we open our eyes and our hearts to it.

At the end of the day the choice is ours. I can choose to see the pain and heartache and dwell in it, or I can choose to see my potential and possibilities for the future. I can see that God is with me every step of the way. I can trust that he is with me in the pain and bringing me to a place where I can run freely and breathe again.

And that’s what I choose to believe again and again. So I will run and embrace these gifts and let gratitude pour from me for how far I have come and where I am going.

My race isn’t over yet. It’s just beginning.

Potential.

I do not have a green thumb whatsoever. For as long as I can remember, I have been terrible at keeping plants alive. I tend to forget to water them, then over-water them when I get around to it. This doesn’t always stop me from attempting, and this year I accepted the challenge when I purchased a beautiful flowering plant for my back patio.

The scorching summer sun has been beating into it, and each morning I try to pour just a little water to dampen the plant, crossing my fingers I won’t drown it or find it wilting the next day. As I stared at my plant with its small pink flowers this morning, I was reminded of something Hannah shared with me earlier this spring. She filled out something at the end of the school year sharing what she learned, and one of the things she wrote was, “It takes time and effort to achieve your goals.” Such wise words for an eight-year-old.

Hannah has been working hard at mastering several gymnastics skills and has grown leaps and bounds since she started the sport a year ago. While it’s a little terrifying to see her tackling such moves with no fear, I am very proud of Hannah. I love seeing her set her heart and mind to working hard and growing, pouring herself into something she loves. She is seeing the reward for the time and effort she puts in, and it encourages her to push harder.

As I look at Hannah tackling gymnastics or Hailey at dance, and as I see the growth of my blooming plant, I am reminded of the potential within myself. The past couple years I have given myself permission to push the easy button in several areas (OK let’s be honest, just about every area) of my life. It’s been a whirlwind, and I have allowed myself to get caught up in it, giving myself grace to simply survive and get through it. And while some days I still feel like I am struggling to catch my breath, needing to hold onto a floatation device to keep my head above the water, I am finally feeling like I can swim on my own.

For too long, I have felt stuck, as I try to navigate my way and look ahead to what’s next rather than focusing on the present. David was so good at simply letting things be as they are, finding joy in the simple moments of the everyday, and it’s something I continue to strive for. Honestly, it’s probably something I will always seek more of, being mindfully present and joyful in the gifts God has given me. In yoga, you are constantly reminded to focus on the breath and practice mindfulness. To acknowledge your thoughts without judgment and release them, coming back to the breath. It is what grounds you and reminds you of what matters. In my breath, I feel focused. I come back to the present; I come back to joy and the gifts God has given me; I come back to who I am.

Who I am is so much more than what I give myself credit for, and I know that. It’s easy to get caught up in the everyday, the to-dos, the what-ifs and the “where is this all going” questions. Who I am is a blooming plant with potential for beauty and growth. Who I am needs nurturing, just like my daughter, just like the plant I am trying to keep alive, both with patience and love. The scorching of the sun and life’s challenges will beat down on me, but I don’t have to let myself hide in the shade or drown in the water. Slowly, I can take care of and believe in myself. I can see the gifts in my life for what they are. I can choose to nurture them and spend the time and effort working on them so I can reach my goals. Daring to dream and believe again feels scary and yet inspiring and joy-filled at the same time.

I started a book earlier this year, and I know my brain is going to tell me to avoid it, to press the easy button or give up, but I know that I don’t want to. Like all good things, it requires time, effort and a lot of self-love, patience and nurturing to achieve my goals.

I see the potential within myself. Not just as a writer but as who I am. I am wired for creativity, for passion, for love, for speaking truth, for encouragement, for reckless abandon. Deep down is the girl within me who sees just how beautiful this life can be when you embrace it, when you let your hair down, when you invite in the beauty of connection and friendships, when you seize adventures and live with less fear and more trust.

That’s the potential for this life I see and long for. And I can’t wait for the ride.

Beautiful chaos.

Words written express so eloquently what often my spoken ones cannot. They are more thoughtful, poured out onto a page, a document, a space to be filled. With my heart, my voice, my everything.

Sometimes when I write, I hesitate. I hold back for fear of exposing more than I ought. When I don’t want to share the details. Yet my heart yearns to pour them out, to put into words what presses down and weighs itself like an invisible anchor on my chest.

So I write. I tell the world, or at least the invisible audience on the internet, what I’m feeling. Scared, yet hopeful. Anxious, oh so filled with worry, yet trusting.

So many unknowns lie before me. My husband faces a stage 4 cancer battle. I am currently unemployed. Mothering two young children. In an overwhelming state yet somehow filled with peace. Trusting. Hoping.

I know that the God of the universe is with me through this. I sense His calming presence, the power of the Spirit in me. I know that I am not alone. I am surrounded. By His love, by the love of family and friends. I am grateful for their outpouring of love.

Yet at the same time, my heart cries for solace. Solitude. Rest. I hate that I don’t have a job and yet I am grateful for the opportunity to focus on caring for my family. It somehow feels like less stress for the moment. Before the cancer diagnosis the anxiety of not having a job consumed me, but now it just feels right. Like God knew what I needed right now. He’s letting me trust in Him alone.

My soul finds rest in the midst of the chaos. My heart knows that God is good even when life is not what we envisioned it to be. Because we weren’t made just for the things of this world. We are made for far greater. We are made to worship our Creator. It just so happens that God loves us immensely, too. He brings us comfort and peace in the catastrophes of life.

And, God brings us beauty and goodness in the everyday. I am so thankful for the wonderful people who surround me. My beautiful daughters, my husband who is fighting for all of us. Our church community, family, friends and beyond. We are blessed beyond measure.

Together, we are praying for miracles. Believing. Hoping. Enduring. Trusting that God is with us. In this beautiful chaos.