I’ve been journaling for years. I’m old fashioned, I guess, but I really love putting a pen to paper and watching the words flow. The problem is, I’m not what you’d consider organized, so trying to find a particular date or entry means going through years worth of journaling. The other day I was looking for a particular entry and it was like reading someone else’s words in my handwriting. I have a lot to share with you, and in time, as He leads, I will, but for now I think the best place to start is with why I’m sharing anything at all.
I found an entry from late last year that took my breath away. I wrote that I felt like the Lord showed me that it was a time of transparency and vulnerability. I shared it with only a few people and at the time, I thought it was for then. Like, for that month and then the end. I’m a private person. Unless you’re in my circle, you won’t know what’s going on in my life. I can smile and make wise cracks and be dying inside.
Transparency? No. Thank. You. That allows everyone to see your weaknesses, flaws, and fears. The good, the bad and the ugly.
Vulnerability? Nope. It leaves you wide open to feel the ramifications of said transparency. Not. Interested.
When Hagen died, without giving it a second thought, I knew how he died would not be swept under the rug. My head was in a fog, but that was so deep in my spirit that I didn’t have to think about the decision. The speakers at his funeral had lived “that life” but are now in ministries, and at 6:31 a.m., two days after he died, I sat down and told the world that my son overdosed. Despite the fact that I was a private person, I just knew I had to do things that way. Despite the fact that I hated for people to see anything other than the smile, I sent an invitation into the hardest, most devastating experience of my life. I didn’t realize that I was being transparent or vulnerable and I certainly didn’t realize that invitation went out to the world.
I knew in my spirit it was to be done that way because on a fall evening, four months before my son died, the Lord whispered into my ear that this season was coming. He prepared me for it, equipped me for it, and gave me the courage to do it. He just didn’t tell me what events would take place before I stepped into it. But now I know.
I hated the thought of people seeing me and my mess, but those two words and what they mean no longer make me cringe. Without them, there is no true confession and without a true confession there is no testimony. Without a testimony, others cannot see that they are not alone in their mess. They cannot see a way out. They cannot see hope for themselves. They cannot see that the Lord has met someone else in the same situation and carried them out. So, HopeMovement is my transparent and vulnerable testimony. It isn’t about me or Hagen. It’s about Him because it’s by the blood that He shed and the word of our testimony that we will overcome. I’m going to overcome it. He promised me that. But I’m not doing it alone. For every “like”, comment and message I receive I know that there are others that are also going to overcome. Your response is part of YOUR testimony. Thank you for reading each piece of mine that I share. (I know they are dreadfully long. Just imagine what a conversation with me would be like!) More importantly, thank you for sharing yours with me! They are precious to me and they are prayed over. We are in this together.