Earlier this evening a thought popped into my head. One that hasn't surfaced in 6 years. Six years ago I had a nervous breakdown. I cried for months. At the very beginning I moved to town to have some solitude and do some soul searching. I made a decision that week that I wasn't going to waste the pain. If I self medicated in one way or another I was going to waste the pain and end up in the same spot emotionally again sooner or later. And it was just so friggin painful that I didn't want to go through it twice.
Earlier this evening I realized that by all the self numbing behaviours I've engaged in in the past few days I am going to waste the pain if I don't start making different choices. Talk about a wake up call. I am NOT going to waste the pain. I am going to sit in it no matter how much I'd rather not, until I come through the other side. Sitting in it makes me feel needy and whiny and full of self pity. "Get over yourself already" echoes in my head. I want to be brave and courageous and past all this. I want to be a hero. I want that elusive word that I've long detested hearing in Christianese - victory- to be my mantra. How many layers are there to the onion anyway?
Tonight I picked up this book by Mary Jo Leddy. The opening two paragraphs has this to say:
"What we say with our words is so much less important than what we mean with our lives. Only our lives give weight to our words.
I believe that each one of us has at least one significant word to say with our lives. This word is who we really are, who we are meant to become, our calling in this world. Within this word lies the secret of our happiness, the source of our power, and the mysterious point of our being. Through this particular word of our lives we bring the one thing necessary that no other can give. A particular grace."
I really do believe my word is hope. And no matter how whiny, broken, and just plain sick of myself I get, I am going to keep on hoping with my life. Because words can be so cheap.