I'm fine. It's fine. Everything's Fine.

It’s been a while since I’ve had time to write, but I’m back at my keyboard tonight. Part of going through difficult things is realizing the physical toll emotions can take. For me, creative energy is one of the first resources that get zapped. I want to write, to sing, to create, but it’s difficult when the mental and physical loads are so heavy. Until we walked through a long season of infertility, I’m not sure I really understood that. It’s exhausting to continually be weighing out every thought and decision mentally. It’s tough to keep up with daily things when you’re waiting for your healing, or your baby, or whatever miracle that feels just beyond your reach. Or, when all of your energy is spent just keeping life moving forward, it can feel like there’s little room for anything else.

Lately, I’ve found myself repeating the refrain: “It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”. The people to whom I am saying it know that it’s just a way of saying, “I’m steeling myself for what’s going on and we’re going to make it through”. But, so often, “I’m fine” is a way of brushing people aside and closing the door on transparency and authenticity. I’ve certainly hidden behind the veil of those words at times - desperately hoping that the person on the other side has no desire to dig any deeper. As a believer in God and a part of the Body of Christ, I should have a built-in safe place within the church. But, sadly, we often don’t feel like that’s true. We’ve seen judgment passed on others or witnessed gossip covered in pious prayers. Instead of truly being able to find connection and respite, we worry that we will be too much, too shocking, too needy, just too anything. We worry that people will tire of our journey and our constant wishing and praying for things to be different.

In our personal journey, we found as we let people slowly in to our struggle that a support system emerged we desperately needed. Never before had I truly understood what it meant to be carried by the prayers of others. There were days where we could barely even voice our need, but our brothers and sisters in Christ were already raising them before God’s throne. The power of prayer proved to be very real to us in this season. It’s a lesson I hope we don’t soon forget.

I came across a song by Matthew West several weeks ago that struck at the core of this desire to cover up and be perfect. “I don’t know why it so hard to admit it when being honest is the only way to fix it” has been echoing in my mind for weeks. That’s the crux of it. If we can’t be transparent, we can’t get help. If we don’t reveal the problem, we miss the opportunity to find help. Whatever you are struggling with or waiting for might be so intimate and personal that revealing it feels more uncomfortable than actually walking naked into a room of strangers. But, in the unveiling, we find little miracles and support and love that we could have never imagined. (Note: It’s completely appropriate to be wise in choosing to whom you reveal the most intimate desires of your heart. It doesn’t have to be for public consumption.)

Is there a safe place where you can share what’s on your heart? Do you have a community who can walk this road with you? Our community was invaluable and helped carry us when we didn’t know how we would make the next move. I pray that you find a way to develop that kind of community in your own journey. No matter what the waiting journey looks like for you, my prayer for you tonight is that you find faithful companions to help you carry the load.

Truth be Told - Matthew West

Verse 1:
Lie #1 you’re supposed to have it all together
And when they ask how you’re doing, just smile and tell ‘em “never better”
Lie #2 everybody’s life is perfect except yours
So keep your messes and your wounds and your secrets safe with you behind closed doors

Chorus:
The truth be told, the truth is rarely told
I say I’m fine, Yeah I’m fine, oh, I’m fine, hey I’m fine but I’m not
I’m broken
And when it’s out of control, I say it’s under control but it’s not
And You know it
I don’t know why it’s so hard to admit it when being honest is the only way to fix it
There’s no failure, no fault, there’s no sin You don’t already know
So let the truth be told

Verse 2:
There’s a sign on the door says, “Come as you are” but I doubt it
‘Cause if we lived like that was true every Sunday morning pew would be crowded
But didn’t You say church should look more like a hospital
A safe place for the sick, the sinner and the scarred and the prodigal like me

Chorus:
But, the truth be told, the truth is rarely told
Oh, am I the only one who says
I say I’m fine, Yeah I’m fine, oh, I’m fine, hey I’m fine but I’m not
I’m broken
And when it’s out of control, I say it’s under control but it’s not
And You know it
I don’t know why it’s so hard to admit it when being honest is the only way to fix it
There’s no failure, no fault, there’s no sin You don’t already know
So let the truth be told

Bridge:
Can I really stand here unashamed knowing that Your love for me won’t change
Oh, God, if that’s really true then let the Truth be told

Chorus:
I say I’m fine, Yeah I’m fine, oh, I’m fine, hey I’m fine but I’m not
I’m broken
And when it’s out of control, I say it’s under control but it’s not
And You know it
I don’t know why it’s so hard to admit it when being honest is the only way to fix it
There’s no failure, no fault, there’s no sin You don’t already know, yeah, I know
There’s no failure, no fault, there’s no sin You don’t already know
So let the truth be told