I used to write. It's how I would pour my heart out and share my story with the world, or at least those who cared to take a glimpse. It used to be theraputic, refreshing, revitalizing. Then, life happened. Marriage. Kids. Working at a high poverty school. Busyness. Life happened, and writing became less and less. Life, like a theif in the night took away my time and with it, my passion for writing. It was no longer the way I expressed my self, the way I processed the events of my life. I could hardly hear the voice anymore of my middle school Language Arts teacher who told me, "You are a great writer. One day your writing will bring you great things. Don't stop writing." But I, the 5th grade reading, language arts and writing teacher, did just that. I stopped writing. Oh, the irony.
Life was good at times and hard at others, but I rarely wrote about it anymore. There were big things---Moving back to Evansville after a short stay in Seymour, Josh's dream job, the perfect job for me, finding our niche at Crossroads, including our small group, my battle with anxiety and depression, tough pregnancies, healthy babies born, grade level switch, my dad's diagnosis, the loss of a newphew, a dairy/egg allergy and tubes for Emmett, a sweet niece born, my growing Plexus business, seeing our little ones growing up too fast, growing with our small group, close friends moving away, a new home... There were also little things--long walks at the Newburgh riverfront, frozen yogurt, swimming, wineries, trips, potty training, breastfeeding, prayers before bedtime, modifying recipes to make them dairy free, teaching and loving on kids everyday, decorating a new home, playing at parks, jumping at Skyzone, play doh, reading the same books over and over, running, cooking, Mexican food, this list could go on and on, because life is truly is made up of the little moments and little things.
Sometimes things happen in life that change everything in a matter of minutes---a car accident, a death, the loss of a child, a suicide, a home invasion, a fire that takes everything, a serious illness. These things are things to be shared, in hopes that others can take some of the burden, some of the load that is weighing down so hard on your chest, making it impossible to think or breathe. These things send you spiraling down into darkness, and through time, counseling, the help of others, you get through them and come out on the other side where there is light and goodness. All of this is only possible through and with Christ. Sometimes things like this happen, that are too taboo to share, and you are left to pick up the pieces alone, and with the help of a few who you have confided in, but the weight is almost too much for such few people. The people who are there have only seen the very teeny tiny tip of the iceberg. They can't really relate, because they are still living their seemingly mess free daily lives, making sweet memories with their families. These are times when only God can help.
You learn many things in times like this.
People will disappoint you and you will disappoint yourself. You learn that some things are just too hard for some people to bear and so they walk away. Sometimes these people are the ones who should be holding you closest. You learn that your true friends stick around, unchanging. They don't change who they are or how they treat you, and they don't change promises they've made. They don't break promises. They don't point fingers. They walk alongside you. They support you. They love and enoucrage you, even when all they hear is silence. Even when the going gets tough. Even when your mood is a roller coaster. They get on for the ride. You learn that not everyone can do that. Not everyone can take it, but you learn who can. You learn that some people don't know what to say, so they either say nothing or they say some really stupid things. You learn to forgive them for that, because at least they tried. You learn what it looks like to forgive others in your saddness and heartache. You learn that when you think things are at their worst, that they might not be. You learn what rock bottom really feels like. You learn that it's okay if your house is a disaster even if it drives you crazy. You learn that it's okay to buy prepackaged meals or accept meals from others. You learn that you have emotions that you didn't even know you had, and you learn that life goes on. You learn that prayer, scripture, meditation, music, Christ is all that can get you through. You learn to turn to Him, to lean on him, to let him hold you. You learn that things you thought were important before maybe really weren't so important after all. You learn to pick up the pieces and move on. You learn that it's okay to not be the picture perfect facebook mom, wife, teacher, friend. You learn that it's okay to say, "I am not okay, but I will be." You learn that with Christ beside, you will make it through, because his love never fails.
