Every day that I do Pilates, (which is not every day) I begin with Sara Groves‘ song “Just Showed Up for My Own Life.” I love the lyrics… and if I were more talented, I would sing along. But, not so much so I just sweat through them.
Have you heard it?
Your unspoken broken.
We all have it. It’s that thing in us that we don’t talk about because we don’t know how to put words to it. It’s that feeling that rises in us and makes our throats tighten and our voices tremble.
It’s the disquiet in our soul, the ache we always feel but never get used to; the silent companion who takes up too much room in our hearts. It’s our unspoken broken.
The mom who tries to manage her mentally ill adult son — she feels the sting, the ache. When you see her on Sunday and she smiles and hugs you and asks how your week went, can you hear what is not said? Can you hear her unspoken broken? It is there, screaming to be heard and held and helped.
I found an old tattered audio book at our local used book store. It was recorded on cassette, so you can imagine how old it is, but I bought it because it was by Elisabeth Elliot. Oh my goodness! I am such a big fan so this audio book is a treasure — she even reads it herself. The book is called These Strange Ashes and it’s about her first year as a missionary to a small group of native women in the Ecuadorian jungle. She is gut-honest about her doubts and questions and the cost of obedience.
In the book, she recounts an African legend about Jesus. It is not in the Bible — it never happened! It’s a made-up story, but the message sure does preach the truth. The legend hit me right in the heart and made me consider why I obey the Lord… for whom do I carry the stone?
Here’s my version of the legend…
That woman? The one who looks so put together? You didn’t get to see her when she yelled at her kids or stared in her mirror wondering why she feels so discouraged. She has a messy life too.
That house? The one you visit and everything is in its place? That one? Well, have you ever pulled back a shower curtain, opened a closet or felt how lumpy the pillows are? Everybody has a messy life.
Some of us hide our messy lives well! And… sometimes we just need permission to be messy…to be real.
I lived for years trying to hide my messy life.
Sometimes we girls just feel spent, right? And, when we are flat out overwhelmed and running on empty, I don’t know about you, but that is when my feelings start to get really wobbly! We may be physically spent, emotionally raw, mentally zapped or spiritually dry. Can I get a witness?!
Am I sharing your testimony?
I think I lived as a thief for many years. Not because I stole an occasional candy bar from the grocery store or lifted jewelry from my friends home when she wasn’t looking! No, I stole from myself. Every time I aided and abetted anxiety I robbed myself of peace, security and contentment.
Do you steal from yourself?
