Sunday, August 30, 2015

Over Sharing

When you go on this journey and share it and support others in it, as you are doing, remember you are healing other's hearts through your broken one. Really there is nothing much more beautiful than that.” 

A dear friend wrote me that recently, in response to my sharing about our unsuccessful attempts in having a baby.

Perhaps I’m an over-sharer.
As soon as I hit publish, I cringe, thinking about all the souls who must be thinking, “I can’t believe she would write about that and share it on social media. Where’s the sense of privacy these days?”

I might have thought the same thing.
No one has told me that outright (in fact, the comments I have gotten are quite the opposite), but I still can’t help but think that the thoughts  do cross people’s minds. And, even if they don’t, those are the very thoughts that keep me from continuing to want to share.

Maybe they’re lies.
But, I think they may be the very things that cause us to keep our mouths shut.
The very fears, assumptions, worries, that cause us to go on living in the privacy of our own homes and, even worse, our own heads. Because, if people knew… what would they think?

I want you to know that I share because I don’t think enough people do.
I want you to know that I share because, especially in this instance, I think it’s too easy to think you’re the only one struggling. It’s too easy to think that there’s something wrong with only you. It’s too easy to believe the lies.

But I can’t escape the truth of Scripture—where Jesus talks about bringing light to darkness, where it’s said that there’s nothing hidden that won’t be disclosed. I can’t help but feel that true healing can’t come about until we’ve confronted every aspect of it—until we’ve admitted, confessed, surrendered.

I can’t desire true community with others and then fail to tell the people that I’m trying to share my life with that we’re trying to have a baby. Trying, and failing. Because that affects me. It affects me emotionally, spiritually, physically. I can’t grin through my teeth and tell people I’m fine, if I’m not actually fine. It won’t get us anywhere. If anything, it sets us back because now I’m just a liar.

I share because I want you to do the same.
I suppose some part of me hopes that by me sharing too much, that you might be prompted to share even a little. Not with me… but with those around you (and not anonymously). That you might be willing to face the hard things in your life head-on. That you might even be willing to truly take them to the Lord. To sit in your car and weep, crying aloud to the Lord that it hurts, that you need Him, that you need something…and that you might allow true healing to come through Christ.  

To stop grinning through your teeth and saying that you’re fine…
But to let others know what’s really going on.
To admit to yourself what’s really going on. (because, sometimes that’s the hardest thing to do…)

I shared, in part, because I felt like a liar.
I shared, in part, because I wanted people to know how to really be praying for us.
But, I keep sharing for all of those other reasons.

I want you to know you’re not alone.
There’s hope.
Second chances.
Freedom.
People.
Love.
Jesus.

I pray for boldness as you hurt, ponder, question, feel alone (or even rejoice)
I hope you share with someone today.
I hope you let someone in.
And I hope you can at least take a minute to be honest with yourself about whatever is going on, wherever you’re at… .that you can ask yourself some hard questions.

I think you might be surprised what happens when you take a risk.
When you hit “submit”.
When you walk boldly into the light.
May the Lord bless you and keep you;
may He make His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you;
may He lift His countenance upon you and give you peace.
 I support you.


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1 comment:

  1. I didn't share about our infertility with anyone besides our parents until about a year and a half into it, for several reasons… but found that once I did, the burden lifted immensely. Walking this journey with you. Thanks for sharing.

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