A little over a month ago I cheered on a dear friend in the midst of a transition.
One, that for all intents and purposes was the catalyst that I could see would be her renewing.
During our last time hanging out we laughed, reminisced, vented, dreamed, and listened to fears vocalized.
I knew in that moment that my job as being in her corner was to slay fears, speak life, and celebrate!
To wage war for her in the most godly of ways behind closed doors.
To listen closely to the words of life that needed to be spoken, to encourage her to keep pressing on!
To create space for honest and bold celebrations, even if she couldn’t see the accomplishments created.
One night specifically she was sharing what God had been speaking to her heart, more importantly the pruning that was taking place!
My heart was encouraged because her earnestness to hear, move, and allow restoration was humbling!
Our discussion landed on pride and as she begin to share her heart the Holy Spirit nudged me repeatedly with the following phrase:
”Pride prevents true love of self, which prevents one from being able to be vulnerably loved!”
We wrapped up our conversation and I realized that I had over the last several months allowed my pride to steer my choices.
As I have settled into a new normal amidst a resurgence of a pandemic, socializing, and re-emerging life all together, I realized I emerged with shaky legs.
Shaky legs around my appearance.
Now, prior to the world shutting down I had become an ametuer, awkward, and painfully slow runner.
It started out by bullied support from my coworkers, that morphed into a love-hate relationship that I oddly enjoyed.
A world-wide shut down, germs galore, and Oreos in abundance was the perfect rest I needed from having completed 2 half marathons, multiple 5k’s, a 10miler, and countless runs in my head!
As a gradual and slow re-opening has allowed for me to start training again I ran into some challenges regarding a consistent routine.
Out of nowhere my body (nowhere to me, medically right on cue) started to uncontrollably swell.
There was no rhyme or reason to the cause, other than a further complication to my failing liver.
Initially it was sporadic enough that I was able to stuff it into an emotional corner, neatly arranged to be hidden from all views.
Yet, this pesky side effect decided it wanted to play for gold..it must have missed the memo that the olympics were over!
What started out as occasional bloating at the end of the day, morphed into something that would start earlier and earlier with no consistent trigger or warning.
I went from a slightly toned body to looking pregnant and wobbling like the dance.
(The pregnant piece isn’t an exaggeration -I was asked several times by strangers!)
My carefully curated closet, with matching shoes and more importantly the statement headbands no longer worked!
I realized that the Holy Spirit was not only giving me life affirming words for my sweet friend, he was also speaking life DEFENDING words for my fragile heart!
I realized that I allowed the pride of being sick but not “looking sick” fuel the encouragement I needed to make it day to day while in this season of waiting.
Waiting on “Glenda the Good Liver” to arrive!
After sometime processing, internally and out loud I decided it’s time to part ways with my pride..
Now, that doesn’t mean my beloved headbands will be disappearing any time soon.
But it does mean that my expectations and method of finding encouragement is changing.
I‘m choosing to walk away from the idea of a polished, pristine, and manicured looking life.
I’m choosing to embrace the inconsistent, inconvenient, and unappreciated rhythms of chronic illness.
But, ultimately, I’m choosing to not walk this journey alone.
Because, the paradigm of secrecy and boldness that fuels pride creates a mountain of isolation that destroys joy and hope.
Now I don’t know much and I’m learning a lot on this journey to healing via transplant. But I do know this:
One thing for sure, two for certain, is that the life of a woman of God can not be devoid of joy and hope!!
They are the foundation, combined with vulnerable faith that gives way for Life. Defending. Words.!
My hope and prayer is that this week creates room for you to defend the life of others as they defend yours by helping you bury pride and speak life!
So powerful!!!!!