Don’t ask me to read James.

Don’t cite Lewis or Tolkien.

Don’t tell me to meditate on Proverbs 31.

Because I’ve heard it. I know it. Hell. I’ve got it memorized. And for now, it rings hollow.

Almost 2 years ago I sat with a friend outside of our office building- while we talked over cups of green tea. I so specifically remember him saying, “It’s not too often in life that we experience real pain. If you can just find a way to let yourself feel it. To experience it… that’s really living, you know?”

So here I am. The messy me. Learning how to be broken. Again. Trying to let myself feel the disruptive pain of splintered plans and loss and disappointment.

Because that is life in bold.

Brokenness seems to punctuate the illustration of our lives with these unassailable strokes of obtrusive colors. Brazen streaks of painful contrast. Hues that vibrate against a canvas painted mostly in harmonious shades of safe. And from my current vantage point- it’s an ugly addition.

So I’m learning how to be broken- in an almost functional way. To be one of those walking wounded, questioning my desire to heal.

I’m learning to dig a little deeper. To find purpose in the face of rejection and reason in stomach-turning desperation.

I am not taking joy. I am not “planting flags of truth” …I am just learning. And I’m not a great student.

I attempt to forgive the morning for arriving too soon… But condemn it’s arrogance in parallel. I curse the sun for rising before I wanted to see myself in it’s light and blame the day for bringing with it a whole new race to run… Because I’m exhausted. And I don’t at all feel like building perseverance.

So I’m learning how to be broken in these times when “getting better” feels more like giving up . Because sometimes Hope looks like a thief. And the mire feels more secure than being lost. When clinging to the past means keeping a piece of what’s missing, moving on is a perplexing notion.

I’m learning how to be the artist of my life within a new aesthetic of surrender.

But in the mean time, please tuck away those cliches. Keep the ancient wisdom in your pocket. And silence all those promises of healing Time.

At least for a little bit longer.