They say that you don’t gain weight overnight, nor will you lose it that way. I think the same logic can be applied to the process of coming to the end of yourself and trying to find your way back home.
It’s over. The hardest year this far is over and I’m breathing a sigh of relief.
And I survived. And my faith survived. And my relationships, the most important and precious ones, they survived too.
To say I’m better for it makes it seem so trivial. I’m not better for it, because there were times this year where I was the worst version of myself. Times where I was jaded and callous and stubborn and selfish.
I’m still all of those things.
I haven’t learned the perfect trick to handle suffering or conflict or heartache.
But I learned that it’s okay to question the beliefs we cling to, because we learn what to let go of and to cling to what is still holding us.
And it’s okay to move on from people who no longer serve you, because chances are you’re not serving them well either.
And when you’re wrong, even if someone else is also wrong or even more wrong, you apologise. You repent. It truly doesn’t matter what they did. All you can control is what you do - haven’t we learned this lesson since we were children fighting on the playground?
All you can control is yourself, and even then your life is beyond your control. So who are we to think we can influence or change anyone else?
We can’t let other people’s actions be the cause of our unravelling. They can’t make us whole again.
That’s something that happens deep within our spirit. Face to face with the darkest parts of our soul. Allow everything to surface, allow it to be painful for a moment, but know that you are free and whole and you again.
Coming back to yourself is worth it, I think.
My heart was broken and then it was hardened because it didn’t know how to be broken and then God broke it open into a thousand little pieces. That is vulnerability, sweet friend. To let it shatter and continue to wear the kaleidoscope on your sleeve.
And on a plane landing in the warm humidity of a town I quite literally ran away from as fast as I could, I knew I was coming home.
Not to a place and not even to a person.