surprisingly, God does love me (and the rest of us) after all, because even though I didn’t want to be seen this way, a few people noticed. And reached out. And reached out some more. And continued even when I didn’t respond. I saw their texts and listened to their messages. I knew they cared. They were supportive.  They loved me. 

 

But the lies my mind shouts at me sometimes tend to be much louder than any voice of kindness or reason. And my husband tries to carry me through the worst of it, and does everything and says everything right, reminding me who I am, that I’m loved and I matter.  But this is a hole I have to find my own way out of.

 

Each time I start that long crawl, I’ll admit I’m usually more embarrassed that I’ve let my darkness peak out into my normally sunshiny outside world. But as much as that makes me want to crawl right back and hide, I’ve made myself stay and accept a tiny bit of love from people who would give me the world if they had it. It’s hard to admit I was too broken to help myself.

 

But by letting one person in, it made it a little easier to let another, and then another. And before I knew it, there were more than a few people who started picking up the shattered parts of me that I didn’t have the first clue how to piece back together. But they did. And one by one, they helped me remember that I deserved to be whole.

 

Do I have it all figured out yet?

Absolutely not.

 

But sometimes, even the most broken things can be made whole, maybe even a little bit beautiful. I’ve read about the Japanese art form Kintsugi.  Kintsugi involves repairing broken pottery with gold or other precious metals.  The word itself literally translates to “to join with gold,” and the technique involves using Japanese lacquer to reattach broken pieces of pottery, then decorating the joints with gold, silver, or platinum powder.  The goal is to highlight the repair and imperfections rather than hiding them.  In fact, the cracks are often made more valuable through the process, and the piece ends up being stronger and more beautiful than before.  Metaphor much?

 

Now there are some things I may struggle with at times for the rest of my life. I do know though, that hiding it like a dirty secret isn’t going to help. Not me. Not my family. Not my friends. Not a random person scrolling through one pretty snapshot after another, feeling alone, less than, and hurting. So I’m taking that whole “sunlight is the best disinfectant” thing to heart and stepping back into the light, along with the ugly stuff I’d rather let hide in the dark where it belongs.

 

This world has more than enough people pretending they’ve got it figured out. Or maybe they really do have it figured out and their lives actually are like a walking Hallmark card. What do I know? But me? I’m no Hallmark card, and nowhere close to having much of anything figured out. So I’m just going to lay it all out there, where I’m sure some will smugly enjoy my admissions, and some may pity me, or be disappointed that I don’t have enough faith to just make it all magically go away, or at least keep it tucked under a rug like normal people so nobody feels uncomfortable. And that’s fine. Truthfully, I’m working on accepting that it’s fine.  Being a people pleaser is fun.  If there was a sarcasm font, the last sentence would be in that.  Bold and underlined sarcasm font. However, just in case there is anyone else who feels like they’re losing at this game that they never actually wanted to play…you aren’t alone. Most of us, regardless of pretty homes, framed scripture on the walls and family pictures capturing smiles that don’t appear to have ever been dulled by heartache, have plenty of pain that you never get to see. Because we feel less vulnerable when it’s hidden. It’s there, though. I promise. And as a wise friend reminded me…

 

even the helpers need to be helped sometimes.

 

If you’re in a marriage, I hope it’s the kind of relationship where your partner not only sees the real you but can also see the amazing gifts within you that most of us are unable to recognize in ourselves.  And even more importantly, they tell you.  They remind you.  They show you the good you have in you, the people you’ve touched just by loving them, the special things that make you a one-of-a-kind uniquely, beautifully messy human.  Our people, the ones who’ve seen the good, the bad, the ugly, and all of the in-betweens are the gifts we don’t deserve. 

 

I’m blessed enough with my husband who has been this magic mirror in my life for the last 20 years. My mom and dad are this kind of people. I have childhood friends who are my people.  My brother and sisters are my people.  My sister-in-love is my person. I’ve made friends along the course of my life who have become my people. I have no doubt that each of these people have saved my life multiple times over.  Some of them have prayed over and for me.  All of them have stood up for me when I just couldn’t do it for myself.  Sometimes they’ve even given me some tough love reminding me that I can stand on my own, but also, that I never have to do it alone.  Despite any differences in our beliefs, faiths, locations, life trajectories or a million other things that could and probably should pull us apart, these just make our connection that much more precious. 

 

So don’t worry about hiding until you feel worthy of the light. You’re worthy. Period. Dirty, broken, and tea- stained, just as you are. You might even find someone who needs to be reminded of their worth too and they’re waiting for you to show them. If you’ve been waiting for a sign, here it is.

 

“It may be that you yourself are not luminous, but that you are a conductor of light. 

Some people without possessing genius, have a remarkable ability to stimulate it.” 

Arthur Conan Doyle