We’re taking a step in a new direction this year. We are allowing people in.
We are opening the doors of our hearts, our life, our home, our story.
We are sending our insecurities packing one by one and putting them out the door where they belong…not in our lives anymore.
We are emptying our hearts and spaces of the negative so there is room to invite in the positive, the things we really want to fill the space around and within us.
Allowing people into our lives, to journey alongside us, has not been an easy undertaking for us. Opening the doors of our life feels really scary and really intimidating and we’ve had them closed for so long they are getting a little stuck as we attempt to open them.
Our Journey of Isolation (the short version):
At the very beginning of my oldest son’s journey I was plagued with feeling like his disability was my fault.
I remember the day after he was born and the cardiologist gave us his diagnosis of Tetralogy of Fallot. My parents were visiting the hospital and my dad asked one of the doctors for a copy of the information sheet about Tetralogy.
I had already seen it and remember panicking as the Dr said they would get it for him.
The sheet listed possible causes and one of them was poor prenatal nutrition. I had been diagnosed with hyperemesis gravidarum (extreme all day morning sickness) and struggled with keeping food down and finding anything healthy appetizing my entire pregnancy. I even remember humorously posting on Facebook about how mint n chocolate chip ice cream was the only thing I could keep down.
I didn’t want anyone to see that list of possible causes.
The only thing I saw people being able to see when looking at that sheet was the lie that I had sunk all I was worth into, that I had caused it.
That my son would suffer because I couldn’t handle pregnancy well, because of a medicine I had taken when I was 19, because I had a piece of candy with alcohol in it, because of the hair gel I used and a host of other reasons I could not be talked out of and wholeheartedly believed were the cause as though my life depended on it.
As we journeyed along in isolation, that shame, that fear and those theories I clung to as truth all grew and multiplied to near destructive levels, eventually giving way to shame that I was not doing enough for him, that I wasn’t spending enough time working with him, that he hadn’t progressed in this area or that because of my inadequacy in giving him what he needed and ultimately shame in my inadequacy to be his mom.
Hoping for a change:
Those were very challenging, isolating years. Years that to this day remain raw and real and the memories of that season are close to the surface and very much a part of our story.
They happened, we lived them and in some ways there is some comfort of going back to them and remembering the incredible depth of that season…and seeing how far we have come and how ready we are to break free from those years.
To now write a story going in a completely different direction yet built on the lessons learned and felt from that heartbreaking season.
So we are baby stepping our way out of the first part of our story and into the sequel, where we are hoping the plot lines of isolation, shame, anger, fear, walls up, and chips on our shoulders will be replaced with a tale of community, open doors, open hearts, saying a huge YES to help and allowing people in.
So what does that look like practically for us?
I’m not 100% sure yet. We have some tangible ideas I’ll be writing about as we implement them but I think it’s something that’s going to evolve over time.
The first thing I do know we’re starting with though is a change in our heart, a change in our mindset. A decision to realize that people do really want to come along side us…and to not be self focused thinking the motivation is to cut me down for needing help or not having the cleanest house or for dropping balls here and there or just plain not having it together.
To realize, as my friend Bekah, who has gracefully modeled community in the midst of the unthinkable, very eloquently puts it, to paraphrase, those leaning into our story need us, as much as we need them.
That in allowing people into this God ordained journey of doing life together, through that act of opening up and allowing others in, blessings will flow their way even as we receive and blessings flow our way.
What a beautiful way of life…a way of life we’re ready to live.
Let’s Talk: Do you feel a part of a community? What does it look like and how did you find it and/or build it? How has it enriched your life and what advice do you have for us as we take steps to enter in? If you don’t feel a part of a supportive community what do you think is hindering you from being in community with others? (This can apply to all needs in life!)
