I realise I've been quiet recently and not just on this blog. I use Facebook a lot less, I tweet not as often and I don't often have fun things to post on Instagram. While typing this I realised I've become quieter in life too. I'm busier, sure, but I'm withdrawing more and spending more time alone. While, in some capacity, this is good because it's so hard to get time alone when you live with so many others, it also isn't good for me.
I guess what I really need to say is things aren't great in my life right now. The struggles of being poorly over Christmas haven't really gone away and now I'm struggling intensely in every aspect of life. Getting out of bed some days is a challenge, let alone the act of getting out of pjs and in to clothes. I'm not feeding myself appropriately nor am I behaving sensibly around food when I am eating. I'm getting angry at little things. I've had moments of trying to find relief in self harm. I cry a lot more than I don't. I'm losing weight and people are noticing. I have a constant weight on my shoulders. I'm back in therapy that I can't really afford. I'm not communicating with friends as I should. The thought of the future has left me wanting to die.
And yet, here I am. In the last 10 days I have co-ordinated catering at 2 events, facilitated prayer spaces for an all-age service, led endless children's activities and prayer meetings, babysat and many other things. I am still breathing. I haven't hurt myself this week. I've reached out to people in a way I haven't in a very long time. I'm in a total daze and physically exhausted but I'm alive and that is what is important. I've given out so so much this weekend for this morning, and the second the service started I knew everything we'd done was right. I was filled afresh and totally blessed by everything that happened.
It's not been easy these past couple of weeks. I went to an amazing children's leaders conference and then had a brilliant 4 day holiday to Budapest. I didn't take care of myself in any of that time and that's what has left me in this muddle now. I've pushed my body to its limits. Mentally I'd love to go to sleep and never wake up. However I've never felt so loved and valued by people around me.
This week I had a really raw, honest, vulnerable conversation with a pastor in a coffee shop. Someone I never imagined I'd share my story with. If that seemed unlikely, her sharing her story in return wasn't even on my radar, but she did and I felt honoured. It's been so long since anyone has told me their story, mainly because they hear a little bit about me and don't want to burden me. That didn't happen and it's changed things. People trust me still. I'm not too broken to ever be a support for others. It gave me hope in a way I haven't had in a long time. I matter to other people and stories should be shared. Hearing stories of experience gives inspiration and hope in a way that nothing else can quite manage.
While we're on mission I have to give a 7 minute evangelistic talk. Stories should be shared. I know what I need to talk about. I have to be brave. I have strength to do this because God has lined up so many people recently to encourage me all over again. Today I am thankful, because my voice may be quiet, my mind may be loud, but God is loudest of all and that's exactly all I need.
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22-23
