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The accident in Uganda rattled me to the core.
A hired driver had picked me up at the airport. Careening at 72 kph, the minibus in front of us began to weave. When they jerked out of the way, we saw the drunk man crossing the road.
He hit the windshield over my lap. Glass fell into my shoes.
Returning on home assignment a month later, my husband asked me to find one friend who could simply take the time to receive my story. Listen. Ask good questions, like we see Jesus ask: “What do you want me to do for you?”
My friend was honored to be asked, and that time together was invaluable for our friendship and my ability to finally begin to push past something that could have broken me.
There was something freeing at finally being able to share the invisible bag of stones I lugged around, occasionally flopping over my forehead and making it hard to see anything else.
Living overseas has given me new acquaintance with grief. I’ve been irrevocably altered. And there are things God didn’t choose to do; ways I bear such failure and loss.
Grief is isolating. Even when we grieve in community, our experience of loss is unique as a retinal scan: What we’ve seen changes us.
Most people don’t know what questions to ask about this rabbit hole I emerged from.
I wonder things: What if I share this, and someone doesn’t understand? What if I share what’s sacred, and a person has no idea how valuable it is to me? Or what if they don’t even ask?
I get Scrooge-y and skittish with those experiences that feel so sacred.
But just because someone doesn’t completely understand doesn’t mean they can’t relate.
Eliminate some of the mind-reading and unspoken/unagreed-upon expectations, and ask for what you need. And then, when people inevitably fail, don’t give up. We’re one body. Connectedness—unity—matters (Ephesians 4:3-16).
Keep challenging yourself one step beyond your comfort zone: Vulnerability is an act of bravery and practice. Sharing our story is often a significant first step to healing–finally.
Don’t let your story be the bottleneck between your slavery…and your freedom.
What’s your biggest obstacle to vulnerability right now—and your biggest need for prayer and creative problem-solving in this area?
I struggle with associating my own needs with shame. Like Peter, I pridefully prefer to be the giver rather than the receiver. Add that to some alienating experiences with people not understanding my overseas experience…and I can make a lot of excuses for isolation (i.e. spiritual dysfunction).