Beautifully Broken

So I woke up to a normal morning. I reluctantly rolled out of bed, ate a blueberry waffle, went to class, went to lunch, and then BOOM. It was happening. It was like my head was going to spin off because I heard the word interview.

An unexpected interview, how could I do this. My anxious mind was actually convinced the world was going to end.

Now before you get all worried, this is a pretty normal occurrence in my life, but that doesn’t make it any easier. One word, one situation, one action and all the lies start going through my head 100 mph: none of these people want to actually be around me, no one can love me through this, everyone is mad at me, there is no way I can sit in an interview, etc.

If any of you struggle with anxiety (or even if you don’t) you most likely relate to this in some way or another. You freak out about one situation and next thing you know you are second guessing everything in life.

Now at this point, so absorbed in my own thoughts, I’m questioning how I am even going to get through the rest of my day because everyone hates me, right? Nobody wants to be around me, right? Everything in life is pointless, right?

How could I go about my normal day, my life is clearly in shambles. I still have to go to another class, dance practice, meetings and obviously everyone is going to know I’m falling apart. I’m basically going to have to hide in the back corner behind a smile so everyone thinks I’m normal.

I take a deep breath and pull myself together, remembering that I promised myself I would never be the sum of my weaknesses. I would not let my struggles define me. Determined to pull my head out of the gutter I reluctantly dragged my feet and walked over to my quiet place and began to journal.

Then BOOM. That’s when it hit me.

It hit me that I am normal. I’m my own kind of normal.

I’m broken, but aren’t we all. We are all BEAUTIFULLY broken. My struggles make me who I am; they make me unique. It is in these moments of weakness that I learn compassion. I learn a love for others that allows my heart to hurt for not only ME, but for THEM. Struggles allow my heart to be softened and vulnerable. They aid me in remembering the importance of letting others help me.

As I am sitting in the silence this image of a cracked, yet beautiful antique vase popped into my mind. The cracks and signs of use gave it character, made it unique, unlike any other. The wear and tear showed that it was previously used, it had been through a lot. But it was clearly also previously loved.

My heart so accurately reflects that vase. It it cracked. It has been used, hurt, and wounded. But in the end, it has also been loved. However, something I so often forget is that the cracks are important. The cracks are necessary. For it is in the cracks, in the moments of hurt and weakness, we see the light. Through our wounds and imperfections, the cracks in our hearts, the light of truth shines.

For when I am weak, I am strong.

Friends, never forget we are all BEAUTIFULLY broken. Let the light of truth shine through the cracks.

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