“I don’t know where you are today. I don’t know the mud or the mountaintop you’re facing today. I don’t know if you are laughing or crying or doing that weird sort of laughing that turns into crying because you suppressed your emotions for so long. No matter who you are and what you’ve done – I know you’ve known the darkness. You’ve known the loneliness. The grit of goodbye.
I know you’ve wanted things to be easier. I know you’ve searched for a sense of happiness. And that’s because you, just like me, thought you’d reach a place where things could not touch you anymore. I am the sorry one to admit that this place doesn’t exist. I mean, I am only 26 so I cannot promise that for certain but I am nearly positive that this “place of no problems” does not exist. There will always be some sort of darkness. There will always be a challenge. You are human. If humans came with a manual I think it would just say this: “They break one another. They’re hopeful to a fault. They are not immune to hard stuff, no matter what they claim.”
You were never promised perfected. Never promised a life with no pain. You were not promised much but you’ve somehow woken up today with a pocket of strength to pull from. Somehow you’re here. You’ve going to do this thing over again. You might still feel haunted by the past and you know what? That’s perfectly okay.
No one is making you to hold the world together. No one is asking you to execute the perfect day, and feel no pain, and get no bruises. The myth of perfection is just that: a myth.
Rule the day with grace and lead with the footsteps of a person you’ve like to say you’re booming. Treasure your darkness – it’s remaking you as you go. Don’t hide your face from the people who want to hear your story. Your real story. The one that is happening below the surface.
Let people in. Just let someone in today and speak.
Speak to the darkness inside of you, even if it hasn’t stopped haunting you yet.”
Sucker punch straight to the gut.
Those are hannah brencher’s words, but it seems that she has wiggled her way into my heart. I should have written those words to myself months ago.
Winter. Winter was a long season. In my head, winter is my favorite. But in my heart, I am waiting waiting waiting for it to be over.
Alas, the sun has shone. I didn’t think it would do as wonderful for me as it has, but literally, everything in me seems to have shifted. It’s like I’ve woken up to a new day.
How sweet it is that each new day holds new mercies. What a promise. That every time I rise, I will freshly find Him who promises good things over me.
Winter. Winter was a long season. It was full of heartbreak and hurt and anger and frustration and overall darkness. It manifested inside of me for months without me realizing that it had moved into my home of a body. I didn’t realize it had taken residency here, but I see now that it has.
It is a really good reminder to remember that there will never be a day without darkness. Not when I’m 6 or when I’m 60. I think that sometimes, we get in these hard seasons and we just wait on them to pass. We fail to understand that we will never be void of the dark things. and one darkness leads to a new, different darkness which leads to yet another darkness.
I think I’m doing that laughing, sort of crying thing. I’ve suppressed and pushed away and refused to let love in. I’ve let the residency of Winter make me cold, too.
today is a glorious day to stand in the promise of seasons past. that maybe one day, I was there and that is who I was. but Spring has sprung and I’m gonna walk in her glorious freedom because today’s mercies are NEW.
This is me showing my face. I’ve haven’t blogged, really blogged, in months. I don’t remember the last time that I didn’t add “blog” to my to-do list, knowing that the words would come much more from my head than from my heart. but I’m gonna show you my face today. and I’m gonna trust in new mercies. I’m gonna trust in little girl Spring and I’m gonna give her a spoonful of hope.
and I’m going to choose to let you see all my pieces.
because dark seasons take grace. winter takes grace. grace upon grace upon grace.
lacing my fingers through yours,