i went to sleep through sobs and heartache, my pillow wet and mascara stained. i needed this day to be over and long forgotten and ached to be swallowed up by slumber and a dream world far from the hurt of the day. i couldn’t remember the last time i’d felt so defeated and sad and though i was certain i was in for a fitful night of sleep plagued with worry and distraction, i drifted away with a prayer on my heart: “please Lord, make it all go away.”
it came on slowly and still and before i knew it the darkness of the night developed into an answer to prayer. not the one i’d be begging for (“please Lord, make it all go away”) but one of clarity and remembrance.
in my sleep i spent time with one of my dearest mentors and heart friends and her sweet boy. i don’t remember much about what happened in the dream, but just being with them brought to my memory some heart changing conversations Lisa and I had back in february.
it was only days after spending a weekend in hospital waiting rooms in palo alto and my heart was raw and exposed. i was on the brink of tears at every turn and knew heading to a conference at such an intense time would be difficult. but those first few hours of my stay in nashville have been branded on my soul. and days like this, i am grateful for the reminder.
we spoke of sharlie and of david and we spoke of physical brokenness. we shared stories of imperfection and grace in imperfection. she told me of perfect strangers being willing to open up and become vulnerable once they saw her sweet david and realized that she knew first hand that life doesn’t always turn out how you think. of broken people feeling the freedom to be just that because david wore his imperfections on the outside.
and my heart was flooded with the truth until i felt like it would burst.
the truth of the matter is this: we are all imperfect. we are all broken. we are all struggling with something. something real. something terrifying. something that feels as though it may swallow us whole and spit us out. and we are all trying our best.
yet even though we are all shattered souls, we feel so much shame in our brokenness. we do our best to show we have it all together. and in our quest to hide our brokenness, we forget that we are ALL broken. and instead of grace, we offer judgement, and hurt instead of the soothing balm of gilead.
just as i was in the middle of the deep darkness that this week brought into my life, i read this post from ashley.
we can all be a little kinder than necessary.
we can offer compassion instead of criticism.
yesterday i was certain i was ready to walk away from blogging forever. and though i’ve felt violated and misjudged (something i won’t go into here and now) i feel the strength that comes from the knowledge that i alone will never achieve perfection. i am broken. i have weakness. i make mistakes. and that is ok. i believe in Grace. i believe in a Healer. i believe in One greater than i and know that while we are all in pieces, the Master will make us whole.
and i, for one, will glory in THAT.