ˌrēˈɡrō/ verb/ gerund or present participle: Regrowing "to grow or be grown anew or continued growth after an injury or after having died or withered"
This fall, I took some time off from my blog, I needed a break from writing; mostly, I needed a break because I was broken, but regardless I knew I needed to not write for a bit.
However, I feel like I am finally ready to start sharing my thoughts and heart again.
A couple of months ago, I felt as though I had fallen into an ocean and couldn’t swim. I felt like I was drowning.
I was in a sink or swim type of situation, as though I had been thrown into an ocean so I could learn HOW to swim.
Only, I panicked.
Instead of swimming or focusing on getting my head above water, I just panicked.
You see, the problem is, when you are in a panicked state of mind, not much gets through to you. People can tell you what to do, they can yell, or get angry, or love on you, but if you are not listening, the advice doesn’t help.. And sometimes, it just adds to the noise.
I did a lot of thinking, a lot of avoiding, a lot of watching online tv, a lot of praying, and a whole heck of a lot of sitting in silence.
However, there was exactly one conversation almost two months ago that made it through the noise and the pain, and gave me hope and understanding…
After a particularly difficult day filled with tears and despair, I was pulled aside by family friends, given some money, and told that I was being prayed for. That this person was praying and lamenting on my behalf to God, and asking why my situation was so difficult and why I was going to suffer. He told me that God had told him (although not audibly) that, I was like a tree that was being trimmed. However, I was getting pruned more than normal, so it would be more difficult and painful than a normal cutting away of the excess. Yet, he said that God made it clear that I was going to be ok, because my roots were deep enough that I would not be shaken, I would not lose my faith. I would not lose my God in this situation, that in the long run it would be better and healthy because the tree and fruit would produce more than it was ever able to beforehand. He said my roots are strong enough that I would be ok, despite how much it will hurt.
While he was describing his time with God, I saw it, I saw my tree. I knew exactly what my tree looked like before the trimming, I saw the pain of the aftermath of the branches, leaves and fruit laying on the ground. I felt the gut wrenching and sheer hurt I was facing due to how much trimming had to be done, and then, I was able to see the root system. It was massive, and entirely dwarfed the size of the now small tree with piles of branches and leaves on the ground.
Above ground my tree was almost laughably small. The left over branches looked spindly, and as though the trim had in fact killed it because it was too severe. Yet, below ground, the root system was vast and expansive, and full of life.
I knew then, that I was going to be fine, but I also know how painful this was all going to be, and I had no option but to go through the pain. I thought about and wondered, and spent a lot of time asking God if I was in fact strong enough. Did I have enough faith, and believe down to my core that my savior would save me? Every time, I realized that my faith was not being shaken. I did not have a frame of reference for what was taking place, but I knew He would be there, I also knew that I was operating on just the sensory of immense pain. Just pain.
I did not have a box for knowing in my core that I would be ok, but only feeling pain.
I am still wading through the pain. I wish I could point to one, two or ten things that have caused me to be in this situation. Walking through this intense trimming, but the reality is, it has been a long time coming, and will likely be a while before I am on the other side. Unfortunately, I am anticipating a few more breakdowns in the process.
Soon. Soon I will be dancing in the amazing healing that only God can provide. Soon I will explain to you a few of the more recent steps of growth, recovery, and healing; but for now, tonight, there is just hope, and a glimmer of understanding that I feel just as much as know deep down.