WHEN LIFE IS HARD

I’ve been gone from this cyberspace for awhile. Unexpectedly. But then, intentionally stretching out the longevity of the break. Partly because yes, life is busy, and when things get chaotic I have to prioritize. (Aka, “if I want to graduate I HAVE to finish this research paper…”). But mostly because I didn’t know how to write what was going on in my life. I didn’t know how to verbalize my feelings, and even when I did I was unsure if I was ready to share them. Even now, not everyone knows the heartache that’s been occurring. Because not everyone needs to know. And I want to protect the ones I love no matter what. But here it feels safe. And I’m desperate to have these shadows be verbalized in a way that is honest but gracious. So I can have freedom in the vulnerability. And even to help me make sense of it all myself.The realness and reality of sin is sometimes lost in the light, joy, and hustle and bustle of this world. But I’ve learned for the first time ever, the devastation and the real reality of its pain. It reoccurringly knocks the wind out of you. Over and over and over. Until you become numb. Numb enough to keep walking through each day.

If you know me at all, you know that my family is THE most important thing in the world to me. It has always been family first. They are my safe haven. So when hidden secrets became exposed and for the first time in my life I had to call into question the love and loyalty of my father, my world was shattered. The distance between being at school and home became a safety net. I could process things easier because of the separation I felt/feel from the situation. I would be heartbroken, then in supernatural strength have the ability to forgive and trust that restoration was possible. And then the next weekend would come, I would go home, and yet another life altering truth would be poured out onto the four of us daughters. Curled up next to my super-hero of a mother as she sobbed. Broken. And for the first time I had to face the reality that I might be a the product of a broken home. Just like everyone else… 

For a few weeks I didn’t sleep most nights. I would have to remind myself to just keep breathing as I’d drive to work or walk through the grocery store. Nothing seemed certain because nothing was right. I would record it as a good day if I was able to be distracted from the heartache for just a few minutes. But somehow in the midst of it all, I knew that if I could still wake up in the morning and say, “God is still good,” then I could make it. I could make it because I had nothing left in me, but the Lord’s power is made perfect in my weakness. I love my family. And I love my father. Even in the pain, my only desire is for him to know Jesus. That is the only thing that will make it all worth it. 

So in this vague explanation of my absence, I ask for your prayers in the midst of the hard days. And for your grace. The few friends that I’ve entrusted with the truth admit that they would never have known, because to the world and through social media life looks perfect. But it’s not. And we’re not trying to mask the reality, but we do know that not everyone needs to know. Because in the end we have to keep living, because healing doesn’t happen overnight.