Brokenness and beauty.

Sometimes you don't have the words. More and more this semester I've found that words are of no use to me. I need a different language, one of silence and time together and touch. It's been a hard semester. My family is separated. My dad is in a rehabilitation center learning to walk again (but it's so much more than that). My brother is growing up on his own (it seems like) for the time being. My mom must be so so tired. My body is broken and I am still learning what it means to live in community with people. I am broken. And it's been hard. Really really hard.

That is something that I am noticing more and more. That people are broken but nobody wants to admit it. Especially within the Christian community where we should be the most honest. I am still figuring out how to tell people that I can't do it any more. That not just physically am I broken but I am falling apart piece by piece, emotionally, spiritually, in relationships. I am not okay. We are not okay.

Like I said, I'm having to speak a different language. I'm learning to cry with people for their hardships and mine. They are willing to get late night pizza with me. They are willing to take long drives and just process. They are willing to curl up and crochet. They are willing to hold my hand and my heart for the time being. They, like me, are learning what it means to speak the language of love and how to be honest about their own brokenness.

I am broken.
I am hurting.
I am tired.
I am not okay.

It's okay to be broken. It's okay to hurt. It's okay to say I am not okay. We are not okay. Isn't it funny to have to say that it's okay to say that we're not okay? What a life we live.

And at the same time, we have so much to be thankful for. Isn't that crazy? We are broken. We are taken from our brokenness and made beautiful. We are loved in spite of our messiness. We are wanted. We are set free. From brokenness to beauty.


Song of the post: I Have Made Mistakes- The Oh Hello's