I know what you’re thinking. It’s been a minute.

In all fairness, I never said I’d be any good at this – and you can see that in the 30 day challenge that took me almost half a year to complete. But I will also say that I’ve wanted to put this out there for so long and have never had the courage to do so. Until now.

I just got off the phone with my amazing best friend. It was one of our semi-annual phone catch up dates (because I’m a horrible friend and am terrible at picking up the phone to call anyone…but at least I’m aware of it, right?). I always feel like she finds me right in the middle of my i’m-completely-overwhelmed-and-everything-is-458723984502978-times-more-dramatic-because-of-it moments, which I’m super sorry for but I also know she’d tell me to stop apologizing about it. I shared with her, as I always do, the truth of where I’m at. The truth is 2011 was a difficult year for me. I feel like I learned more, did more, saw more than I ever dreamed imaginable, but I did every bit of it fighting, kicking, and screaming. I’m finally feeling like I’m settling in and growing at my job – finding rest in the confidence and calling God has on me there – but now my personal life is falling apart. Almost like as soon as the sky stopped falling and all seemed right that now the bottom is falling out and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

After all of this…and quite a bit of my being emotional – which she is a saint to be able to dissect what I’m saying through the tears – Rachel responds by telling me a quote from Jon Acuff. That’s always what you want to hear. Christian satire when you’re feeling most vulnerable. Great. I half expected him to show up in my room with some sort of Jesus juke about how my life really isn’t all that bad, to which I’d agree…and would probably also laugh at. But instead of a joke, she shared something that hit me like a brick.

     We expect that God will only teach us lessons through our sufferings.

Whoa.

In that, I’m reminded of how extremely painful, yet beautiful sharing the journey of brokenness can be. I’m not good at vulnerability. In the moments when I feel weak, I run. I find a place where I can have my moment in complete solitude, then come back out ready for the next because, as always, the show must go on. In the times that I want to learn and grow and cultivate new friendships, I convince myself that I have enough friends and don’t need to invest with any others – knowing good and well that my bests are in Colorado, Texas, Florida and one has decided to walk away, which opens up wounds I can’t even begin to explain. And heaven forbid I’m shown any interest from a boy, I inevitably search for something wrong in him that I can then use to separate myself from him because I know if he got any closer, he’d see how unbelievably imperfect I am and would beat me to the punch of walking away.

I feel like I’ve been standing on the edge for the past few months. Looking across to what’s ahead – my goals, my dreams, my future – just knowing that there’s no way to get there. The longer I stand here, the bigger the chasm becomes until it’s just me in a constant state of being simply stuck. All of these are situations of being stuck I completely do to myself. Do I believe that God can use our suffering to teach us lessons? Yes. Do I think that’s the only place he does this? Absolutely not. I see his love for me with every sunset. I hear him speak words of life over me through the closest of friends, and even perfect strangers. I feel his hand of guidance during any time spent with my boss, co-workers and mentors. I make the lessons difficult. Not him.

2012 is going to be a year of refinement. A time to really see all the imperfections in my heart and life and a time to get rid of them. I know that it’s impossible to do alone, but this is still a work in progress.

So there it is. My honest confession that I’m not okay. I’m not fine. I am, indeed, broken.

…but Your love never fails…

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