The whole thing about beauty from the ashes… I have learned so much about it in 2018.
This year I finally spoke more openly about my struggles with depression. Let it be known; there exists zero fluff in beauty from the ashes, it was not pretty or graceful. Searing pain struck me from head to toe — old pain not dealt with exacerbated by new pain. Pain is yucky. The beauty part was hard won.
I’m still pushing past that shame though; it’s a constant brain exercise moving that boulder. There is always fear because there will be more rejection.
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Part of what I won were more profound friendships with people like this sweet lady, who regularly texts pics of her Sunday sermon notes, margins marked with my name…the moment she thought of me while hearing a message pulled from scripture. She drops Advent books at my door with highlighted pages that hold encouragement. She lends me books – one being a love story about a couple who used their massive trial to grow together and now use their experience to show others how to do the same (Hope Heals). She lent me this book specifically knowing that their love story provided a beautiful and vital space for G.R. in my work towards authenticity, because I can not model or share about anything unless it includes talking about him standing by my side.
She has encouraged me to no end to share my struggle in a Godly way, so I can send a message to all about how to help others when they are in pain. And how living with depression does not define you, because there is still so much joy.
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Some of us more genuinely feel all the things in this complicated world, and it only adds up. Empathy overload is a beautiful gift gone haywire, and sometimes we need help getting back on track. There’s no shame in that.
