The crash

I’m approaching the 6 year anniversary of when my life crashed.

It was the Fall of 2018.

I was a new social worker a year out of grad school working in an incredibly stressful job. I had a big heart but no boundaries. I didn’t know how to set limits with myself or others. I didn’t know how to say “no.”

The population I was working with — abuse and neglect — wore on me. I started to feel crushed by the weight of the stories I’d hear but I didn’t know how to care for myself. All I knew was productivity and pressure.

I didn’t listen to the warning signs of stress. I kept pushing.

Around this time my health plummeted. I was lured into a darkness I never experienced before. The regression was steady and fast, trigged by the onset of an autoimmune disorder, brutal insomnia, second-hand trauma, and other medical challenges. It all created this perfect storm, every part of one problem feeding into the other. My body felt like it was falling apart.

So here I was, in my mid-20’s wanting everything to be over. My body felt so out of my control, my mind constantly spiraled with thoughts that terrified me, my spirit crushed, faith nearly gone.

I was in this pit of darkness for about a year before I started to see the light.

What helped the most?

Mindfulness, whole foods, community, rest, and a God who loves. I am ever grateful for all who walked with me in this season.

What I hope to share here are the lessons I learned in the struggle, and the new perspective that 6 years has given me:

Shame digs you deeper, grace brings you higher

When we’re in a pit of darkness the primary language is shame. The deeper we go, the louder and louder it gets. But there’s always another voice, another song to listen to. It’s the voice of the Father’s grace, inviting us to see ourselves as fully loved, accepted, and forgiven. It’s the voice that makes us new when everything else feels like it’s dying.

In my hole I felt so much shame. I put so much pressure on myself to be “perfect” and to not mess up. This just drove me deeper and deeper into the hole, especially when I didn’t meet these unrealistic standards. I later learned (and am still learning), that I don’t have to be “enough” because He is enough, and that is enough for me.

This voice of grace is one we must turn our ears to hear. It’s not the autopilot song. It’s not the song on our culture’s radio. But it’s the song that relieves the pressure to perform and invites us to live freely out of the pit.

God’s love finds us through his people

In the season of struggle, I cried out to the Lord late into the night and in the early hours of the morning when I couldn’t sleep. I’d plead and bargain with him at him at 4 in the morning, pacing around in my backyard under the moonlight.

I’d ask him to show himself to me. To show me where he was in all of the craziness. Because I didn’t see him anywhere.

But what I’ve come to realize is that he was always there. He was with me through his people.

He showed up in the hands that touched me during healing prayers, in the arms that hugged me when I hurt and pulled me up when I fell down, in the feet that walked with me on countless hikes through Harbison State Forest, in the ears that listened to my story and didn’t leave or judge, in the eyes that saw me and envisioned a future for me I couldn’t see at the time.

He was always there. And now I see. The body of Christ is a beautiful thing.

Acceptance is the path to freedom

As a therapist, I’ve learned that avoidance is what drives a lot of people to therapy.

What I’ve learned, however, is that the more we accept rather than avoid, the less we struggle, and the freer we are.

What’s more, acceptance opens the door to change. Only when I accepted my struggle and stopped fighting did my sleep and health improve.

Meditating on the Father’s love and acceptance is also what ignited so much of my growth.

I love what Ann Voskamp says about this in her beautiful children’s book Your Brave Song:

“And when you see who you really are, and you see how Jesus loves you just as you are, and how He loves you enough to change and grow how you are — that’s when you can see how safe in His love you really are, no matter where you are.”

Suffering is always a season

I just celebrated my daughter’s second birthday. Six years ago, I never would’ve believed I’d see this. Life was so bleak. Even if my body could’ve made a kid I didn’t want one. If only I knew back then how much beauty and goodness would be on the other side of the pain.

The best part? Nothing is ever wasted. God is with us in our hardship and he redeems the pain. What was intended for evil God can use for good (Genesis 50:20). It doesn’t make the pain hurt any less, but it makes us shine brighter when it’s over.

We appreciate the light so much more when it comes after the dark. We appreciate the Spring after the Winter, the sun after the rain, the healing after the pain. Then we get to help walk others through the darkness because we know the way.

There is always a light at the end of the tunnel. A clearing at the end of the forest.

Just. Don’t. Stop.