I've only got a moment, but I want to share a song with you that my friend Krista Bjorn (another former ATI student) shared with me.
We all have portions of our lives that are hard to discuss publicly. This isn't always because of some dark personal wound (though often it is). Sometimes it's simply hard to admit that we've come to see things differently from people we love. By speaking up, we risk ostracizing ourselves from vital ties we need to thrive.
But what if your voice could help free another person whose pain is far deeper than your own?
The moment you realize your life experience may help another soul find freedom its time to rise up and speak out.
I feel a special kinship with all my friends who were once a part of the Advanced Training Institute. Each of our post- ATI journeys looks different, but our support for one another is strong!
My heart is with the Recovering Grace team and all who have been hurt by Bill Gothard's ministry.
Enclosed are some pictures I took of my walk around the Spiritual Center while on my silent retreat. Hope you are well.
Love,
Adriana
P.S. Do you remember what it was like to open the mailbox and find a letter with a dear friend's handwriting on the envelope? I would open these treasures ever-so-carefully with a letter opener. Sometimes as I unfolded the stationery, several photographs would spill unto my lap. Sheer delight! This was my attempt to simulate that experience for you. ♥ ~A
When I write I hope to make a connection with you. I want you to feel as though you can hear my voice. I want to leave you with information that is helpful -- real, honest stuff that will build you up! But here's the truth: writing that way takes more courage than I have sometimes. To do that I have to allow myself to be vulnerable. Some examples of thoughts I've had: I've been through some difficult life struggles, but you've been through worse. You think I'm shallow. I have no degree whatsoever; you have a PhD. You're smirking at my little book reports. I have five kids; you have ten. (Or two, and you're wondering if I've figured out yet how to prevent pregnancy.) I'm SO excited because I just ran a mile! You run ten miles every morning. I just got caught up on laundry for the first time in ten years; you never go to sleep at night until every scrap is folded and put away.
It's endless. Roaming through the blogosphere should help, but sometimes it just makes me feel more unworthy. Our hearts are fragile things. It takes courage to open them up.
I would much rather write about what Tolstoy thinks or what Augustine thinks than write about what I think. After spending a considerable amount of time inside the heads of these writers, I consider them to be my friends. (Don't laugh.) Sometimes I hunker behind them. (You might not think highly of me, but everyone thinks highly of my friends!)
But I've noticed when I do scrape together the courage to tell my own stories, the response is usually uplifting. The sting of negative criticism is soothed by the balm of understanding. One of the main reasons I read great classic literature is to become more empathetic. Putting myself out there though -- yikes! --that's a whole different thing!
When you find out about my imperfections, you might not like me anymore. But I can't make a connection with others without taking that risk.
What keeps us out of connection is the fear that we are not worthy of connection. ~ Brené Brown
My stats rise, then decline, then rise again. Why? I scratch the back of my head. On the downer days I sometimes feel a little blue. I'm not worthy. I must have used a comma when I should have used a semicolon! I must have used a word that is now politically incorrect! Then someone will leave a comment that is so encouraging, it brings tears to my eyes. In those moments I know I must keep trying. I must strive to open up the heavy door to my heart. I must take risks while exploring my thoughts about the classics and life.
One thing is certain: when you show courage by making yourself vulnerable, I think it's beautiful.
I want to be beautiful too.
Last week, I stumbled upon a video of a talk by Brené Brown. If this post spoke to you and you feel that you struggle with feelings of unworthiness like me, take 20 minutes to watch this. If you don't have time right now, book mark the page and come back to it when you do. This is one of the best talks I've ever heard.
Note: Since I wrote this post, I've started reading Brené Brown's book, The Gifts of Imperfection. So far it's been really helpful. I look forward to sharing more thoughts about it in the future.
