Wounded

I have been very flattered by the amount of people who have said they missed me and my posts during my three-month hiatus from Facebook. I have loved to entertain and make people laugh since I was old enough to walk in front of a camera and push my brothers out of the way. Most of our home videos are just of my face and singing voice- and I'm OK with that.

So why would I walk away from this platform to entertain? 

Because beyond the "likes" and the comments and the laughs, I was left feeling empty, raw, and often wounded.

It hasn't been an easy season of life; I had surgery in September to remove some ovarian cysts and when they were in there, they found widespread endometriosis (to save you a Google, the inside of my body has more cobwebs than your neighbor's house on Halloween). 

This diagnosis explains the infertility and does give us a possible path of hope. But when this is a card that's dealt to you, it's like you're already walking around without an extra layer of thick skin. 

As a typically thick-skinned person, it's hard to get used to this new bareness that is your life. You're one comment away at any time from becoming a volcanic display of emotion. You can act cordially to someone who asks if "you're next" and then melt down at the mention of a pregnant pause in a paragraph. It's nonsense. 

Add in this year's election cycle and you have the recipe for my Facebook hiatus. 

Not only was I an outsider because I don't have children but I also felt incredibly alone in how I was affected this political season. Imagine feeling like (irrational or not) that your Christian value is not only wrapped up in motherhood but it's also wrapped up in how you vote. 

That's two strikes. That's two blows to the spirit. 

Anyone who votes for her is evil and has no place in church. 

You're talking about me. 

What kind of moron...

You're talking to me. 

Friends; churches- I beg you for grace. Every hurtful question you ask or blanket statement you publicly assert always leaves someone out. It always leaves its stinger in someone while you go about your day. 

People, like me, are walking around raw- all for different reasons- doing the very best they can. 

Back to the volcanic display of emotions, Justin read this during our college devotional Sunday night and I had to sneakily remove the lump that grew in my throat (no 30-year-old woman wants to lose it in front of the cool kids). 

Hebrews 6: 18-19 

"So God has given us two unchanging things: His promise and His oath. These prove that it is impossible for God to lie. As a result, we who come to God for refuge might be encouraged to seize that hope that is set before us. That hope is real and true, an anchor to steady our restless souls, a hope that leads us back behind the curtain to where God is." 

When he read it aloud, it was almost as if my raw self was engulfed in the words. Refuge. Hope. It is impossible for God to lie. His promises give us hope. 

It's all the words I have craved all year and not received.

May we all seek out the wounded among us and provide refuge. May we remember there is a person behind every crude comment or joke. May we be a beacon of hope rather than a quick stop of judgment. 

Thanks for your love and your patience with me.