authenticity.

tonight before i put bella down, i spent some extra time rocking her. it's my favorite time of the day, bedtime. for those few moments she is still and quiet and cuddled into my chest. as i sing to her, she stares up at me with her big, brown eyes and softly begs "more?" whenever there is a pause.

it's the sweetest moment of my every day.

tonight i sang to her some of my dad's favorite songs. some of the hymns that he sang from his hospital bed moments before he met jesus face to face. "oh how i love jesus, oh how i love jesus, oh how i love jesus, because he first loved me." i love being able to pass on dad's legacy of faith to my girls. and tonight, bella was mesmerized by these sweet, old words.

it made me think of the past two months and how they have been the hardest of my life. and yet, how the lord has never been so near. as i have shared so much of my journey on this blog, many people have thanked me for my openness. you have no idea what this has meant to me. thank you so very much for your sweet words, and for your encouragement to keep writing. it's so very healing to me to continue to talk about my dad, to document things that i remember and to never forget this man that has been so pivotal in me becoming who i am today.

i have not always been so open, so vulnerable, so authentic. in fact, i have struggled to allow others to see me in the ways which i am weak.

i was talking with a good friend of mine the other day. she is one of my best friends dating back to my high school days. we were talking about this very subject, and how both of us strive to share our struggles and our weaknesses on our blogs; not just the things that make us look like we have it all together.

this friend and i were reminiscing about a conversation we had shortly after high school. i was going through a rough time after a summer full of weddings and shared with her my struggle to be patient and content. i'll never forget her reaction. her eyes filled with tears as she told me that she had found herself many times thinking that my life was perfect because i never talked about struggling with anything.

and that hit me like a ton of bricks.

what a disservice i was doing myself. what a disservice i was doing those around me! god longed to use my brokenness, my struggles as a way for me to allow others to walk alongside of me... to experience love and encouragement from my friends. he also longed to use my vulnerability as a way for me to bless others. ever since that night, being authentic has been a goal of mine. i've seen the lord use my honesty about my own struggles in so many ways in my counseling career, ministry, friendships, and in my marriage. i totally credit that friend (and the lord) for being so honest with me and calling me out on such a flaw in my life.

it's not always easy. i'm not used to telling others "i'm struggling". i'm not used to asking those close to me for the things that i need. but it's in those moments of weakness that we find the greatest rewards. we are loved more fully, known more deeply and blessed more richly.

i was reminded of this passage the other morning and it struck a chord with me on this very idea of living life so raw and allowing others to see our hurt. it's in second corinthians where paul is talking about how he was given a "thorn in his flesh" (an unknown struggle) that served to keep him humble, and relying on god's power. he says:

"the lord said to me 'my grace is sufficient for you. for my power is made perfect in weakness.' therefore, i will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that christ's power may rest on me. that is why, for christ's sake, i delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. for when i am weak, then i am strong."
(2 Cor. 12:7-10)

this passage has always inspired me; but in the midst of my grief and pain it breathed life into me.

so i'm learning. i'm learning to not be afraid to tell other's i still struggle every single day with missing my dad. i'm learning to not feel like i need to make others comfortable when they talk to me; being honest about my grief may likely make some people uncomfortable. and that's okay. i'm learning to tell my husband when i just need a break; and allow him to serve me without feeling guilty. i'm learning to allow jesus to use this season of my life to draw me into his sweet presence and share with others what i am learning.

we all need that from each other. being genuine is perhaps one of the greatest gifts we can give one another. someone told me a few years ago "at first, being vulnerable may feel like you're walking around without skin on". which is true. sometimes it hurts. sometimes it's painful. sometimes it's the scariest thing we could ever do. but god is faithful to put the skin back on.

he is faithful to redeem and restore. to heal and to save. for his strength is made *perfect* in our weakness. and that's good news.