Tonight I decided to rewatch I Can Only Imagine 2. I felt that I really needed something inspirational because I could feel myself slipping deeper and deeper into the abyss of self-pity. I needed something to pull me back to my faith roots, to reignite that flicker of hope within me. The movie helped to remind me of the promises that faith offers during trying times.
I find the story of Tim Timmons utterly amazing. So much so that I subscribed to his podcast and ordered his book. The concept of having both grief and gratitude is something I can relate to, and on a “soul level,” I still believe that life is beautiful.
I need to start focusing on positives and set some goals instead of punishing myself for the past. This year has been tough, but if I am honest with myself, EVERY year has its own unique challenges. I want to be the woman who exceeds expectations, not succumbs to life’s pressures. In the future, I need to focus on some physical health patterns to improve.
The ironic thing is that I used to be a “gym rat” until I dissected my left carotid artery. I was lifting one day, and I suddenly became lightheaded with a massive headache. My trainer advised me to seek medical attention, and the rest is history: I just gave up. After I recovered from that medical disaster, I was told that the max I could lift was 75lbs. That seemed boring to me, so I just stopped. I’ve always kind of been an “all or nothing” girl. Maybe it’s time to find the gray in life?
It’s the same with church. I ran into a roadblock with my last church, and instead of searching for a new church home, I just gave up, allowing the frustrations and disappointments to overwhelm me. I’ve given up a lot lately, from hobbies that once brought me joy to relationships I thought were solid. It feels as if I’ve lost a piece of myself in this cycle of surrender. Which is ironic, because I generally identify as a “fighter,” someone who thrives on challenges and pushes through adversity.
To be blunt, I just get tired of fighting some days. Life is just as hard as it is beautiful. Some days I just want to be in the pit, feeling the weight of my struggles and allowing myself to experience the rawness of my emotions without the constant need to rise above. It’s important to acknowledge this feeling of heaviness and to embrace it as part of the human experience. However, that’s where my faith comes in and tells me that even in “the pit,” God is with me. I hold on to the belief that every dark moment serves a purpose, and with time, understanding, and support, I can emerge as a stronger and more resilient person.
Leave a Reply