Confession time: today was the first day I didn’t have a mental meltdown about what I’m doing with my life. I think that’s mostly because I overslept and nearly cut my day in half. Because I have them every day. When I wake up I wonder what the purpose of this season is. When I get dressed I wonder what the point is when I am headed nowhere. When I see people hurting I break apart in a million pieces with them whether I know them well or not. When I am in a room full of people I wonder how quickly I could hide in a corner or slip away because I don’t want people to ask what I’m doing now or what the plan is.
Because the truth is: I HAVE NO IDEA. It would be that the one time I need a plan that I don’t have a single one. When I need to consider next week or next month I can’t even think through the next few minutes.
Here’s an embarrassing story for you. My sophomore year of college I walked through 7 deaths expected and unexpected. People I knew closely and others less. Each death having an impact on my heart. At the same time I ended up developing a small medical issue. A cyst on the base of my tailbone. Yes, a cyst at the top of the commonly known “crack”. I found out I’d be undergoing surgery and there was a small risk for complications. Of course small risk really means I’ll have them because I always do. Being a poor healer at the time, I developed an infection and my surgeon had to remove the stitches and allow the site to heal from the inside out.
Let’s review: crack cyst healing from the inside out. It meant having my packing changed once a day in an area I couldn’t see. (Or feel for that matter.) Having my mom help me everyday wasn’t an option so I had to ask my bible study leader (a nurse) to help me change my packing every day. This dear woman had known me 3 months and we had only discussed spiritual matters. We were about to be well acquainted.
We used this time together to talk about life and catch up. Honestly, I was thankful when I had healed enough to take over my own care, but I had come to value our time together. My surgeon finally consented and I was able to do things on my own. I healed. Both physically and emotionally.
My surgeon told me before surgery that I’d have a slight “deformity” from here on out. My family and I always joked that my “crack” was slightly more broken than others.
Why go so far to embarrass myself? Because honestly that’s how I would describe myself. Fully exposed in my imperfections. Raw yet somehow numb. More than anything “slightly more broken than others.”
2 years ago I had to allow someone else to see the very worst part of me. Fully exposed. So I could heal properly and get better.
I’ll get there. It’ll take time. I’m sure I’ll screw up a million times. My caretaker is a Jesus and He daily comes to me and changes the parts of me I cannot reach. Only if I ask Him for my help. I’ve laid here in my infection long enough. Time to cut the stitches. Heal this time around. Time heal from the inside out. I hope you’ll join me.