Sometimes you want a thing more than you realized. You try to ignore it. Push it away. Downplay it, or even pretend it didn’t matter all that much. You soon realize it did matter and a lot too. When you get passed over, you may find an ache in your heart you did not anticipate. It is a pain you did not want, but there it is bleeding into the edges of your soul.
There’s no more ignoring it, side stepping it, or suppressing it. The ache refuses to be silent. It must be dealt with now and not later. But this is the kind of ache you don’t just get over when you get passed by. It is the sort of pain you must work through. You can’t get under it, around it, or over it. You must go through it. We don’t have to walk alone. We don’t have to carry the burden by ourselves.
These days I’m choosing to allow others to enter into the story of my hurt. They are people I love and who love me without condition. They are the people I have told the whole, broken, unrefined story to. Every line, crease, and wrinkle of my sorrow, joys, struggle, and triumph have been shared with them. They are the friends who have held my hands when my body shook with trembling from speaking up in truth.
Kindreds like this carry the sacred tellings of my life with great care. And they are the ones I have allowed to speak hard truths to me. I know their words are not meant to would my soul, but to remind me of divine identity. They speak words to remind me who I am and to cut away lies. It is often painful, but it is also healing.
Life is sometimes struggle. We hang on to it tightly with both hands because it flails about without prediction. Many times the struggle is real. When life gets really hard, I choose to remember these hard moments will not last forever. I choose to remember and believe that God makes beautiful things rise from the ashes. When I get passed over, God reminds me I am still seen, heard, valued, and deeply loved. I listen for truth. I regard my feelings because ignoring them doesn’t help me. I get real and honest about the pain.
In those moments where we have poured out our all and the world says we still fall short, we can remember our identity is not tarnished. When we get passed over, we can know with hope that God can turn it around for good. Beauty will be birthed from these ashes.
This post is a part of my 31 Days of Writing challenge and the second half of the lemonade stories. There are more stories to tell and moments of when to live through. It’s all about taking the sour things of life and reframing them to find the sweetness of faith, hope, and resilience. I hope you’ll join me on this month-long journey. You’ll also find me sharing bits and pieces on my Twitter and IG accounts. I’d love to see you here, and you can also subscribe to my blog/newsletter here.