What Matters Most
In my blogging journey, I have wanted to write about a variety of things that have happened in my life, the lives of people I know, and the world around me. I have sat down in front of my computer or with my phone in my hand, ready to type out the day’s manifesto – prepared to unleash every emotion I had about the situation. A lot of the time I stopped myself – afraid of being ‘too real’. Afraid that I would upset or offend someone.
On November 7th, my understanding of what matters most changed. I spent much of that day watching a loved one die. It was completely unexpected and not the peaceful, serene experience you see in movies and on TV shows. I left the hospital in a daze but had to pull it together and be the wife my husband needed me to be. But after the services, and the traveling, and the business was handled – I realized that I had changed.
Here’s the thing- we get one life. Yes, God, because of His love for us, gives us many chances, but He only gives us one life. And I realized that one of the most important things I can do is be unapologetically me. I must be an open book about my anxiety and depression, the weariness of motherhood, the work of marriage, the necessity to understand and have compassion for people from all walks of life, the truth of my less-than-perfect Christian walk, racism, discrimination, and prejudice that I’ve experienced and all of the other things that I’m living THROUGH. I HAVE to be an open book because somebody, somewhere needs to know that there is something on the other side of the storm and that no matter what, even if your heart and brain are having trouble reconciling it – God is still good.
I realize now that there have been so many things that I didn’t say or wouldn’t say, because it might damage long existing ‘relationships’ or cause ‘friends’ to question ‘who I really am’.
But here’s what I know, better than I ever knew before – those are not the people who will mourn and weep when I’m gone. Those are not the people who will comfort my family long after the last memorial service. Those are not the people who will have to pick up and carry on as though things are ‘normal’. Those are not the people who will hold memories of me in their hearts and physically ache every time they realize I won’t answer their calls or texts anymore. Those are not the people who matter. The people who matter will know and understand exactly where I’m coming from. And that’s really all that matters.
Until next time…