WILL YOU BE MY PERSON
I am changed. I am on the other side. I am free.
As I drove away from my church’s office one Sunday, all I could think was, “wow, I can’t believe I got picked to be someone’s person!” Eight years ago (geez, even 3 years ago) I would never even consider being someone’s support, nor would anyone probably have asked. A mixture of emotions flooded over me as I cried all the way home.
Life feels so full right now. I am an active member at a healthy, flourishing church. I serve as a greeter (I slay this, by the way...think awkward jazz hands and the occasional soft-shoe) and am on the Global Vision team. I have a semi-active social life. I have a great job at a fantastic company. I own a home! I’m writing a book. I have a mentor. WHAT?! All things I fought for.
And now I have been asked to be a mentor. I have been asked to be a woman’s support as she ventures off to the mission field. Wow. Insert all the emojis and hashtags. I never thought I’d be here. Not really. When you’re in the depths of depression and gripped by anger and bitterness for several years (even when you don’t realize it), it’s hard to hope. It’s hard to see that things will ever be truly great. And that’s where I was for several years.
When I was in counseling, the hopelessness I felt seemed like a hurdle impossible to overcome. I was scared. I was scared to hope and trust. I feared destruction, abandonment, failure, and additional loss. I feared that if I made a wrong decision, picked the wrong path, said the wrong things, I would be stuck in the darkness I was in and never ever get out. If I let myself really cry, I would never stop crying. I could never say out loud everything I was thinking and feeling because it was all just too awful. I would forever feel broken and void of all joy, utterly destroyed.
After one particularly difficult session when I finally let myself ugly cry, yell, and finally let it all out, there was a release of sorts. Not a complete lifting of all my burdens and pain, but a small release nonetheless. I finally said everything I wanted and needed to say…everything. My fear of the tears never ending proved to be empty. Granted, I continued to cry on and off for the next few years, but it didn’t destroy me as I feared it would.
By cracking open the door to my dark depression, light was finally able to get in. Then the door swung wide open. I continued talking openly and honestly, and little by little I allowed God back into my life and started to trust Him again.
It’s both amazing and difficult to look back on who I was and now see myself worthy of being someone’s person. Can I be someone’s rope holder while she is on the mission field to not only be an ear to listen but also a resource to help keep her connected to both the church and a community? My feelings of inadequacy to be that support sometimes overwhelm me
I am changed, though. I bear the scars. They don’t disappear. My mind and body will always remember. But I am on the other side of that brokenness and hurt. I am so good. I know this is who I am meant to be, for right now at least. I am more than that pain, those scars. I know I am meant to be her person...I heard God tell me. Then He told her. Then she asked me (she is braver than I am). Then I cried.
God is pretty cool. I have been broken, cried and yelled, and was pieced back together. Maybe I went through all that so she won’t have to. Or maybe she will. Either way I’ll be there to help her through it. Because I am her person.