How Being Vulnerable and Self-aware Changed my Life

Dear Friends and Family,

     In August of 2012, I began a season of grieving much like the one I am currently experiencing today. They started the same way...some doctor in a cold,sterile room broke the news to us. After much hope, treatment, and prayers, we would not be having a child of our own. Grief, in its many forms, has been a reoccurring theme in my life over the last decade. It comes in waves, and yet it always seems to be lurking under the surface, never really going away. I am learning that grief is a process we must walk through in life, but the way I live my life does not have to be defined by that grief. There are two life-altering factors though that have made my current season of grief so very different from the last: vulnerability and self-awareness.

     The first time we went through infertility treatments we were very selective about who we let in on the journey. We chose not to tell most family and friends. My thought process was: If I can barely deal with my own grief, my own emotions, and my own opinions, how can I deal with the hundreds of others? Especially those that may or may not try to filter their words before speaking to the fragile individual I was. Because of this, I closed out most support. I shut down the thoughts of being vulnerable, and I shuddered at the idea of even making myself aware of my own thoughts, opinions, and emotions. I became hard. I became angry. I became judgmental. After learning that we did not conceive from our first IVF treatment in 2012, the emotional turmoil, and subsequent shutting out, went from bad to absolutely horrific. I lied, ran, and tried to convince myself that I was okay. In the midst of all of this I began dealing with suicidal thoughts that swung like a pendulum with the my new emotions each day. One minute I would be standing firm on the truth that the Lord is in control and that I did not have to be perfect. The next minute I would see myself as a failure, a person unable to bear fruit, unable to be honest with friends, and unable to love the Lord because I didn’t understand His love for me. 

     Over the next few years I went on a journey with the Lord that took me from barely keeping my eyes above water, to walking on the water with Him. It may sound crazy, but in His grace I took some radical leaps that allowed the Lord to move within the dark places in my life. During those years I quit my job twice, lived overseas & traveled for 11 months, we sold our house, and we moved to Georgia. The funny thing? Those aren't even the radical parts. The real life-changing was when I started actually trying to apply God’s principles to my everyday life. I had to learn that life’s circumstances were going to change constantly and be out of my control. So I began choosing to put my trust in the Lord, both cognitively and emotionally, in order to deal with whatever wave was coming my way. I began to live and walk in community that pushed me to be vulnerable even when it was raw and painful. At first, this was a struggle. I hated admitting that I was mad at God, or that I wanted to die at times, or that I thought I was a failure.  It took becoming purposefully self-aware, looking into my own motives, my own heart, and hashing out the things I really did not want to talk about, to understand that there is freedom in bringing it all to the “Light”. The Word constantly talks about how bringing sin, shame, and hurts to the Lord brings healing, but I for some reason thought I had to control it all. Just by taking steps to talk out my issues, be vulnerable with others, and to be actively self-aware, I began to experience healing.

     On August 24, 2015, after another round of hopeful IVF, I found out once again that we did not conceive. My heart hurt, my body was exhausted, and I felt defeated. This time though we let you, our friends and family, in from the beginning. We invited our loved ones to walk beside us during this season. I have people to help remind me that my thoughts of failure and defeat are lies. I am choosing to walk in the faith that the Lord’s plans are perfect and good. He guides me daily. I am not perfect, and He mercifully does not expect me to be so. For that I am thankful. He does, however, expect me to keep my eyes on Him and my heart and arms open to embrace the next season. I am confident that vulnerability and self-awareness will continue to help me heal. For now, dear friends, we ask you to pray for us. We will continue to walk through this journey with the Lord and with you. I challenge you to join me in living a life of openness through vulnerability and self-awareness, and therefore experience healing in the dark places in your life. His goodness abounds.  

                                                               With Love,

                                                                           Libby