What does that look like?
What does it look like to try and live with a shattered heart.
Let me tell you what it feels like from over here. It’s people saying “I’m so proud of you- you are handling this so well.” “You are going to come out stronger.” “You are taking the right path in this journey.”
Reality: The more I pray, the more I have felt completely abandoned by my Savior. Where is He in the darkest depths of the night when my body is numb? Where is He in the middle of the crowd when I feel like I might actually lose it “this time.” How long, Lord, must I keep praying and you keep ignoring me. Christ… why do I feel hollow and weak and unable to keep up with everyone else.
Then I was honest with God. I did not tidy my prayers, put them in a pretty box with a bow on top. I ugly prayed. And cried. And screamed.
My conviction was rooted in my honesty. To God, myself, and others.
Today I accepted the imperfection of my grievance process. I have built so much pressure to walk this journey completely perfectly; to model the way for a good, clean Christian grievance. It’s not a clean break. And I have cracked. And I have fallen. And I’ve broken.
Now, I am allowing myself to be the spoken broken I’ve been afraid to speak.
I am not afraid of broken things.