i told my life story yesterday at our new church. some of you know that i turn into a blubbering fool when i tell my story. some things never change, my friends.
we're supposed to give a brief 15 minute overview of our life--where we've come from/where we're going, etc. i knew that time limit would be challenging for me. i can do the 2 minute bio, or i can do the hour long extended version, and that's about it. but i thought oh well, i'll give it a try. i took my watch off and set it beside me when i started talking in an effort to be especially cognizant of the time, and when i looked down at my watch, 40 minutes had gone by! how, i ask, did that happen?
also, there was the blubbering. when i talk about how i lived for most of my 35 years--trapped in the small, dark, fearful false self--and how God has been rescuing, redeeming, healing me, i can't help but cry. i turn into a tearful, ugly-cry-face, inarticulate mess of a woman. some people cry along with me (which i love of course), and some people look at me like i've just landed on earth from the planet zorgon.
i've told my story many times, and after every time i tell it, the shame descends like a dark cloud. i feel so raw and vulnerable. did i say too much? did i not say enough? did i make any sense at all? did i come off looking like a total whacko? round and round and round i go with these questions and more until i'm dizzy and confused and totally worn out. this shame cycle used to be completely debilitating, but with each year that passes, i accept who i am a little bit more, and the lies don't stick quite as much.
the buzzards were circling again last night and this morning, and i have HAD it. first of all, did i move to charlottesville, virginia, just to pretend that i have it all together? hell no. is my goal in life to be as palatable as possible so everyone will like me? hell no. my heart is alive (ALIVE!), and that means i am going to be raw and emotional and messy and broken and yes, a little kooky. so what?
second, even though this is my story, i am neither the author nor the hero of it. so why am i making this all about me?
For the love.
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15 comments:
Miska, I SO relate to what you have just written... I feel sometimes that if I really shared with others what was going on in my mind and heart - that they would surely commit me or at least avoid me... Sometimes, people do that and other times like last week, I find others gathering around me able to find hope in the midst of my scary vulnerability. Thank you so much for acting on your courage to share your brokenness... last week, Shane Claiborne said that we were all "beautiful messes"... I really like that - and have adopted it as my own. I am a beautiful, holy mess... and I tend to think most, if not all of us - some of us are courageous enough to admit it - and open ourselves up to finding healing in community... Thanks again for being one of those persons. Grace and peace... David
Preach it girlfriend!
We are all better off because of your story, and it wouldn't be as good without the blubbering.
well, you know I'm your biggest fan. I couldn't stop smiling at you last night (except when I was smitting by a gracious sadness). The best part is that I am most always there, front row, getting to hear your story whenever you tell it.
Dear Miska,
Thanks for sharing your heart with those that were in the room with you last night. I daresay that even if people look at you like you are from zorgon, they need to hear your voice and your story. And I want to say that your voice and your story have changed and impacted my life in beautiful ways. I speak against the shame. Thanks for who you are - kooky, broken, alive, and real.
Peace and love.
Welcome back, my friend. Welcome.
Miska, your courage to speak of the dark places and the quiet, relentless work of God's redemption gives life. And your cry-face is anything but ugly -- I love your raw beauty.
Peace to you.
Austin
Oh, Miska.
We so deeply love you. You - and your story - are beautiful. Thank you for your courage: by the grace of God, it changes lives.
Jeromie and Liz
I always suspected you might be from zorgon. It's hauntingly wonderful too.
Kinda cool that you posted this on Groundhog Day, when the question is "Was the shadow seen?" It sounds as if you're becoming friends with your shadow, and regardless of whether the next six weeks are winter or spring, you're committed to this thing called hell-yes-living.
Cool.
You don't possess an ugly cry face. Thought you should know. And ditto what everyone else said; except for Ben. I've never been to Zorgon (though I do hear it's nice this time of year.)
Peace, love, and messiness,
Evan
(Ummm...is there a Miska fan club, and if there is can I get a free t-shirt?) I'm so glad you are blogging again. And you know how I feel about you, your story, and being kooky. To being kooky and all the rest I say: hell yes. Hell. Yes. That's all I've got for now. Thanks for sharing your heart, Miska.
I miss you. That's all.
Yes, I sometimes blogstalk you. :)
I recently read the story of Hagar with a friend of mine and was reminded of the time you asked us in house church, "Where have you come from and where are you going?" There was lots of blubbering, loads of understanding, increased Freedom. No one had ever asked me that before. I was so grateful that you did!
You are a treasure, a gift wherever you are.
Peace of Christ,
Sarah B.
I so deeply relate, and have recently been asked to share my story again. I don't want to keep running from those horrible feelings, yet somehow it seems the easiest thing to do. You are such an inspiration to others, we are all broken but God shines such a beautiful light through that brokenness. And I'm tearing up just reading your blog :)!
Reading this post I was reminded of a song by VOTA called "Honestly." Here is the chorus and part of one of the verses:
"If you don't see the real me you won't see what Mercy's done.
If you don't see the weakness, you won't see what love has won.
If you don't see the distance from the darkness to the sun,
You won't see...
Let the light escape, from these holes inside my soul;
When I start to break, then grace begins to flow.
Let the light escape from this wounded place inside my soul...
Honestly."
Truth may be more than some are ready to handle in the moment; but it will affect their souls.
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