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I don't know where to begin.

It's been 4 days since my meeting with my mentor. A meeting which encouraged me to start aggressively working on breaking down some barriers & truly start acting on my intention to make 2013 a year of release.

On Monday she recommended that I make a cost-benefit analysis for one specific thing that is holding me back. As the enormity of what that meant began to sink in, tears started to pour down my cheeks. Who knew that creating a simple pros & cons list would hit such a cord.

But it did.


And I'm fully aware of why it did. It hit a cord because I've know for some time that this type of task was coming. I've known that a time would come where I'd need to take an honest look at the strongholds affecting my life and that doing so would bring some (or lots of) pain to the surface.

So the past 4 days I've been ruminating... no, avoiding. I'd wake up, see my journal on my nightstand & briefly (VERY briefly) consider doing my cost-benefit analysis. And for the past 4 days I've been putting it off. Probably out of fear of what will arise & probably out of pure laziness. This will be no easy task & I honestly don't want to face what's on the other end of it.

But it has to be done & in the end I'll be all the happier and healthier for it. It's the diving in, the in between that I dread.

It has to be done. And so today I dive. Willingly. Head first into a sea of pain, but also a sea of eventual grace, mercy & healing. There is no hesitation in my dive today. Only boldness. Confidence in the knowledge that His timing is perfect and that my obedience (albeit delayed) will be blessed. Selah.

 
 
Last night I cried for the first time in weeks. I leaned on a friend's shoulder & sobbed uncontrollably in her arms. 

It sucked.

I hate crying in front of people. I hate feeling pitied. I hate looking like I don't have it all together.

But the reality is, I needed that cry. I needed it more than I needed to talk through my feelings, more than I needed prayer, more than I needed a kind word. I just needed to bawl my freaking eyes out. And as much as I hate crying, the release and relief that I felt was like none other. 

Using the word "overwhelmed" would be a vast understatement. 

Apparently, mentoring will do that to you.

Lately, I'm filling others up so much that I'm lacking being filled myself. And while I see mentoring as a blessing, I am beginning to realize that I have hit my limit. I cannot give so much of myself without also receiving from others. And so last night I allowed myself to receive.

I received the comfort and the love that radiated through my friend's arms as she embraced me. I received the love from others as they prayed over me. I received affirmation in the fact that I wasn't alone in my overwhelming state. But most of all I received the peace of God as I let my guard down, showed some vulnerability, and started getting real.

As the night ended and the tears had dried up, a good friend of mine asked if I was OK. My answer was a simple, but resounding "No." 

Real. Raw. Blunt.

All things that I tend to avoid, but all things that I'm learning are necessary in leadership and in taking care of oneself.

Right now I'm not entirely OK and I'm OK with that
Tears are tasteless
 
 
"I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop." She says to me. "There's no way you can be this nice."

I hear her words and my heart jumps into my throat.

What pain, what betrayal, what trauma has she experienced that causes her to say these things?

I know only a small portion of her story, but hearing these words and knowing that she truly believes them is heartbreaking.

I've offered myself as a mentor and a friend. I listen to her story. I affirm her with words and with love. I extend grace as it's been so willingly been given to me. My words fail, but my heart is sincere. I love her simply because she is a child of God and because she is in desperate need of love, of kindness, and of grace.

She's being vulnerable and it's painful.

She's fighting so many battles and it's exhausting.

She's struggling with her self worth and comes up short every time.

These are things I see in her eyes, her demeanor, and hear in her words, her voice. Pain, exhaustion, trauma, lack of self-worth. And I know where she's coming from. Maybe not to the degree at which she's feeling it. Maybe not with 100% complete understanding of what she's been through. But I've experienced similar things and I know how darkness closes in so easily.

I pray to God to use me. "Lord, let me be a light in her dark, dark world." 

He says "Lauren, you already are."