From this spot, with my legs folded under blankets and red coffee cup at my chin, I see the light pop to life once again, through the dining room window across from where I sit — just as it does nearly every dark morning.
And there in the pool of our neighbor’s motion-activated house light is the marmalade cat balancing her weight on thin fence planks, looking like she’s been caught in the act of something again.
She seems to angle her body to peer right inside my window, and maybe she’s wondering if anyone’s noticed her standing there or perhaps her eyes are naturally drawn through my window to the place where the lamp light bathes me.
The one exposed by the light seems to seek the company of another in the light.
And I wonder how many years did I live like the cat, stunned by the exposure of the beam flooding down and wanting another to stand there with me? How much did I want to be seen while fearing standing apart, exposed, other?
How much did I long to know I was not alone?
I ached and longed and worked so my perfection would fulfill, cause me to appear together. I tried to power right through my weaknesses and master those ugly parts, so I would be approved and enough.
But weaknesses are forever part of this flesh and blood life, and so I found myself uncovering another and another of them, then strangely longing to be seen in all these ugly parts that were rags flapping like flags.
For to be known in those failings and loved — that would be something different altogether. That a kind of grace like no other gift.
Over the years, I strained my ears to hear those who might share their messes. Not in a barrage of complaints, nor in streams of unending self-criticism and regret, but in a way that spoke it out while recognizing those pieces, those flapping flags, do not represent the fullness of us.
I’m thinking about all this in part because yesterday my post about stomping on ideal exploded the behind-the-scenes of my blog, and I nearly quadrupled any previous reader numbers I’ve had in the year and a half I’ve written here, which is to say imperfection strikes a cord. And so there are many new friends reading here today — joining up through MOPS’ Facebook page where they shared my piece, and I am so glad you are here, and it is no accident.
You are a treasured creation. A beautiful daughter. Created for purposes beyond your understanding in these slow days and fast years.
We may revel in our strengths and document them in photos and celebrate the victories and milestones, as well we should, but I’m reminded again after yesterday that it’s in our weaknesses that we are most known. It’s in our frailties that we connect and know we are not alone.
Yes, you are not alone.
Those years ago, when I began to walk with those who shared their mess-ups and mistakes and regrets, I saw I was “not the only one” (as a woman told me yesterday in a comment), and it felt so freeingly good to tell the truth about myself. And that is why I can write about my ugly behavior and my insecurity and struggles with depression and anxiety, and I am not afraid because neither is that all I am.
And I am breathing this: Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. (2 Corinthians 3:17)
Of course I still want you to think well of me, and I’m not forever wallowing in my failings and shortcomings, this introspection that has no real answers. But I am learning the full taste of freedom because I’m coming to know the One who makes me whole and the glorious communing when life pain is shared. When we are touched by Light greater than any darkness.
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Linking up with Emily Wierenga and Imperfect Prose.
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
Love the way you shine HIs light. I think our holes are just places that Jesus can shine through if we let Him. You let Him, friend. And I’m grateful.
Grateful to walk with you, Alicia. Thank you for encouraging me to share in the broken places. ‘Tis good not to do it alone.
Amen and amen. i have often heard the ‘freedom’ referred to in that verse as ‘freedom to be perfect and sinless’ — but my soul resonates deeply with what you’ve said here. that it’s a freedom to be loved AS WE ARE.
so glad to be among those who love this way. you would be one of them, dear Ashley. love to you.
And love to you! Such freedom in that, isn’t there? Ah, to be loved just like this. Love to you, Kelli.
Ashley, I love your voice and the truth you tell. You offer so much to think on and grow on here. I’ve never left this space untouched. One thing you’ve helped me to see, so that I can now say Amen to it: There is no greater freedom than dropping the shields, the disguises, the pictures we deem to be perfect…there is no greater freedom than honesty…and perhaps no greater gift on earth than the power and tender beauty of the relationships that grow in its presence – being known and loved as we are. Thank you dear girl!
Amen, Mama!
Two standing in the light together being easier…. totally.
One standing out in courage, in order that another would come into the light… much harder.
Loved this post. A reminder to live courageously for Jesus!
Thank you, Darlene, for your true, true words.
ash…how God bonds you and i…i too have been breathing this verse that last few days. that HE ALONE breathes life into me…HE breathes freedom from my messes. HE is refreshing. it’s not me…it’s HIM in me. the girls and i were just talking about it on our drive to school today. how because jesus left to go be with the father…he gave us his spirit. what a gift! HE is our guide through this life. this sweet spirit of jesus is our navigator through all of our mixed up feelings and thoughts. what would i do with out it? i would be tangled up in discouragement. but i have heard him just this week telling me to listen to him. let him be my guide and this verse of truth is powerful..and true. this week i have seen him breath words of life into me when discouragement was all around. thank you for sharing. i loved it.
Oh, Kindy. You are preaching it, sister. And I love it. I am soaking in all these words of yours, and I cannot wait to see you next week and laugh and cry and share more about all you’re learning. You are so beautiful.
i love this and I loved the one before this that resonated with lots of readers and I love everything that flows from that precious heart of yours.
You are too good to me.
So many times, I’m nodding my head and smiling! Loved this one.
I appreciate every head nod and smile. (So excited to see some of those in person, too!)
I so needed to hea this today!!Thank you
Thank you for being here, Jenn. Your presence blesses me.
This inspired me today, my brave friend. How true this is: “It’s in our frailties that we connect and know we are not alone.” Thank you, again and again, for spilling open your frailties and reminding us we’re not alone. There is always refreshment here, in the place where you write, and I praise God for that.
Amber, I am thinking of you tonight and of your courage — speaking out from the hardest places, speaking that you feel alone and then, in the speaking of it, not so all alone. Not that the pain passes, but the hurts shared, the vulnerabilities laid bare, remind us of our humanity, our need, the only one who truly touches. And just like my words help you claim a piece of your courage, yours do the same for me. I am grateful for you, friend. Love you.
Dear Ashley
You remind me so much of Paul with your words where He said that he would rather boast in his weakness so the power of our Pappa can rest on him. Our Lord also said that His power is perfected in our weakness! So weaknesses can be a asset if we use them wisely to the glory of our Pappa God.
Much love XX
Mia
Some of my favorite verses in all of the Bible. Recognizing that God’s power is made perfect in my WEAKNESS has been one of the most mind-blowing, powerful truths of all for me. So grateful for this kind of God.
What a captivating moment and metaphor! I love this: “The one exposed by the light seems to seek the company of another in the light.” So, so true.
I’m grateful you came by today, Beth!