Deb’s Journey…

March 25, 2013

Ready or not, here I come…

Filed under: Uncategorized — admin @ 10:36 am

Being an external processor, I actually need to write or talk in order to process through things.  Writing is in many ways the tool I use to honestly face what’s going on deep inside me.  Without that outlet, my spirit remains unsettled and anxious.  Writing forces me to tell myself the truth and helps me search out solutions or next steps.

I’ve been reading lately about self-compassion, safe people and being authentic.

Being honest with anyone, including God and even myself asks me to believe that I will be met with kindness and compassion rather than judgment or criticism.

A wise mentor has encouraged me to “Feel what you feel without judging it”.

Scripture says it’s out of the overflow of the heart that the mouth speaks…I guess that’s also true for what the hand writes.

I mostly stopped writing about eighteen months after Ian died.  At about the 18 month mark, I hit a wall.  The anesthesia of numbness had worn off and the hurt was so deep and powerful.  I was in a very, very painful and dark season and walked through a deep depression.

Some people near me had been as patient as they could manage and began telling me all the things I should be doing.  All of their well-meaning yet unsolicited advice felt like a steady stream of criticism and judgment.  It was clear I wasn’t living up to their expectations and that made me wrong in their eyes.  All that really meant was they were unsafe people for me.  They either weren’t able or weren’t willing to hear the truth of what was really going on and walk with me in love.  Their impatient need to “fix it” was not only unrealistic & unhelpful; it was in fact damaging and made my healing even more challenging.  They made me afraid of others and I withdrew and isolated myself from nearly everyone.

During that time I met a handful of truly gracious people.   They were familiar with pain and sorrow.  They were patient, generous, humble, courteous and consistent.  They showed restraint and weren’t wise in their own eyes, but instead were kind and encouraging.   They assured me that I wasn’t alone but rather that pain and brokenness were all too common.  They encouraged me that it is the commonality of pain which makes us human.  They renewed my faith and hope which made me want to go on living.

When I think of these people I weep.  I weep in gratitude and I beg God to bless them.  They barely knew me and yet they accepted me and treated me with kindness.  I can never re-pay them or thank them enough.  Some things you can’t “pay back”…some things you just need to humbly, gratefully receive and then attempt to pay forward.

I’ve hidden away for far too long.  I’ve been afraid of what others thought, of what they might say or do, of how that might hurt, of what my response would be.  I’m so tired of hiding.  I so long for spring…I want to bloom again.

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