Understanding Rising Strong

I woke up this morning and looked at the clock 6:09 am.  Shame washed over me--I NEVER sleep this late.  I know that sounds crazy (as opposed to other things I publicly say..).  But shame is indeed what I felt--shame, pain and utter defeat.  

You see, my sleeping until after 6 "proved" to me that I didn't have it altogether.  It "proved" I wasn't as strong as I think I am; it "proved", in my mind, I was losing it; I was weak; I was failing.

I got up and began my morning routine--on hyper mode.  I had to wake the babies by 6:30--how was I going to get all the things done in 20 minutes that I usually take 2 hours to do--more defeat (read more feeling sorry for myself).  "Well," I thought, "The best thing to do is just sit down and read morning prayer.  At least then I'll maybe get back on the right track."  So I sat down and began--

The first Psalm I read was Psalm 121; "I lift up my eyes to the hills, from where is my help to come? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth." I wanted this to make me feel better, but it just made me feel so incredibly lonely.  My self pity kicked in with a full throttle, "Yep there is no help except from God, and lately I haven't felt much of that." I even wrote next to it (in this years color ink of course) "I can't expect others to be there--only God."  While there is absolute truth in God always being there (even when you don't feel it), there is not absolute truth in others not being there.  At that very moment my heart sister Christy was texting me...

I'm a little stubborn and don't always get things quickly (or maybe let go of things), plus William walked in and saw my tears.  "Great," I thought, "Now he knows I don't have it altogether.  Now he knows I'm falling apart."  Add that to the list of ways I've failed my children...

As I finished morning prayer, my pain and shame morphed into bitter resentment.  I started with all the "it's not fairs" of the things I had to do today because of others' choices, then I moved to the "it's not fairs" of the last 24 hours and then on into the last week--shoot I was on a roll so decided to go with the whole freaking year.  It wasn't working.  I wanted to spew resentment at others, but it kept boomeranging back at me--how I had "failed"--all the mistakes I've made--all the decisions I was now second guessing, all the choices, the conversations, the doubts...

As I got ready to go for a run, I found my 4th year Christmas formal sorority tee shirt.  I put it on desperately wishing I could go back to those days and start over.  I started thinking about all the things I would change--all the wisdom I wished I had had or the wisdom of others I wished I listened to. I smiled as I took a picture--thankful I had this shirt--and much to my surprise, the crack of resentment was beginning as I also thought about how thankful I am for all those friendships that have continued to this day.

I started running listening to Brene Brown's Rising Strong. (I really wish I knew how to put that accent on her name..) I was listening to her, but I was also lost in my own thoughts.  I was continuing to beat myself up. (There was a crack, but I was trying not to let it grow.)  "What a horrible person I am," I thought, "That with all the rain in SC I haven't even checked on Mason or thought to ask about our beach house.  I wonder what else I've forgotten, who else I have neglected."  (I'm really good at martyrdom and self pity.)

As I turned onto Massie I saw the hills that so often I fail to run all the way up and out of nowhere I thought, "I HAVE to make it up these hills without stopping.  I HAVE TO!!" I began to run as though my life depended on it, and in a strange way at that moment, I believed it did.

I made it to the top--no stopping and as I crested the final hill I  punched the air a little bit with my fists (my children are so glad they don't see some of the weird things I do...). I started to smile and as the smile crept across my face I thought about the words "rising strong."

To rise strong, I thought, you have to be down and more than that, you have to admit you are down.  People who never experience struggle, pain, even defeat don't ever have to rise.  People who don't admit their down don't rise strong they just wallow (I had been practicing that) accepting that this is how life is going to stay. It's not the defeat that defines us, it's how we rise.  It's knowing we have to rise and that rising IS possible. I slowly began giving myself some credit.  Maybe part of rising strong for me today was getting extra sleep, maybe part of rising strong was answering Christy's text when I wanted to hide from her and from the truth, maybe part of rising strong was letting William know I too hurt, that I too was struggling, maybe part of rising strong was knowing I needed to wear that tee shirt and remember those days, maybe part of rising strong was making it up those hills.

I kept running but was so grateful for the train that made me pause on my run--my legs and lungs were burning, tears were preventing me from seeing too clearly.  "Maybe," I thought, "Part of rising strong means knowing that sometimes it's okay to pause, sometimes it's okay to take a breather, sometimes it's okay to sleep a little late."

Psalm 122:6-7 which I also read today says, "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem. 'May they prosper who love you.' Peace be within your walls and quietness within your towers." I'm not alone--I have those who love me and the peace within me to rise strong.