brokenness

Dawn and I met about two and a half years ago as we were going through training to go to South Padre for Beach Reach. After that week together, she and another friend, the wonderful Miss Katie Graves, formed an accountability group for the remainder of my college career. We met weekly and shared our lives with each other. If you have never been in an accountability group, let me explain a bit. The entire point is to be completely transparent. You share inner most thoughts and those things you swore you’d never share with anyone. You must, as the others in the group cannot help to hold you accountable for future endeavors and growth if you don’t know what the person struggles with. You commit to pray for each other and love each other. It’s tough, but so rewarding. Those girls saw me at the highest of highs and lowest of lows, held me when I stumbled, and celebrated victories with me—no matter how small. They know all my ugly places and mistakes and love me unconditionally.

I haven’t had that sort of relationship with anyone since I graduated, and this past year was… well, I don’t quite have words for it yet. Difficult? Bizarre? I don’t even know. What I can say is that I got to a place I wish I’d never gotten to, and when I got here to South Africa, away from everything, the walls came crashing down. I was able to hold it together for a week, and then the brokenness came. I lay in bed one night trying to muffle my sobs, but I couldn’t. I cried until I had nothing left to cry out. The next night, fighting against shame and pride, I came clean to Dawn as I had so many times before. And as she had so many times before, she held me and prayed over me, sharing God’s truth with me, rebuking the lies that plagued me, and loving me just the same.

Dawn was able to see from everything I revealed that there was an obvious and original desire and need, but my efforts to fulfill that went in the wrong direction, and once on that track, I just kept going. It was something I couldn’t see on my own because I was so deep in it. There is something truly powerful about confessing to another believer, and it is an important part of community. I know that in my own life, and he has shown me once again, that He speaks through community as well as through the individual, and I am blessed to be in an authentic and genuine community that earnestly and humbly seeks the heart of God.

It is okay to be broken. In this place I cannot put up a facade or even a false smile. I don’t have the strength. And He holds all my broken pieces in His hands, where I rest. He sorts through and throws out the pieces I don’t need, and we will spend some time here putting me back together in His image-- “we” being Him, the staff here, and my prayers.