So how are you? How’s it going? My friend asked over the phone, making me pause in my response.
Three simple words. A loaded question, if you will. A question that could begin a super long, taxing conversation, or become a really brief back and forth of side-stepping everything. What would I say?
How’s it going?
I could coat the mishaps and misgivings in sugar, placing a “fine” and “oh, it’s so wonderful” blanket over everything that my heart was feeling. Nonchalantly skipping over the smaller more painful, emotional details to paint in more broad brushstrokes, I could basically say what I thought she wanted to hear. Silently going through a laundry list of all the ways it’s NOT going, thinking just in that moment looking around my house that I really needed to sweep the floors, put the breakfast dishes away, spend more time in my bible.
How’s it going?
I’ll just give her the overview. She doesn’t really want to hear how it’s going. She’s just asking out of politeness, right? No one wants to really take on the burdens of another because we all have our burdens; big, heavy loads to bear. We carry them on our shoulders and in our hearts. When someone asks, who really wants to hear about my “silly” afflictions, an albatross all to myself. No, I should be able to handle mine, right? Keep them locked away, never to share but to bear alone.
How’s it going?
But she could be going through exactly what you’re going through, I tell myself. She is in the same stage of life, baby in tow, learning about being a new mom. She could get it; have some empathy to share like a big, warm cookie broken in two. In the breaking, there is sharing. What if I opened up my heart, with all its imperfections, and were honest with her?
How’s it going?
It’s a choice, right? To choose to be open and honest or to coat everything in syrup and hope everything is drenched in a sweetness so sweet that you don’t really have to talk about anything of importance. And you won’t have to sort through what you are feeling, possibly embarrassing yourself with the stories you could tell.
But that’s not fair. To you or to her. It’s not fair to you because you have positioned yourself so that she can’t reach inside to your heart and help pick up broken pieces, mend what might have become disabled, giving your heart a reprieve.
And it’s not fair to her because her question was meant to open doors and windows, not create walls. She wants to walk right inside, settle down, and begin sharing all of her thoughts as well, possibly giving her a sense of purpose in those moments.
How’s it going?
Revival happens in the opening up, breaking yourself in two, like the cookie, sharing with someone else. No, not everyone gets this part of you, the deeper part of you, and that’s ok. You don’t have to share with everyone. But you do need to take some people, your very closest people, up on their invitation of a conversation. Because believe it or not, it’s ok to feel in these disheartened moments. Despite what the world tells you; you don’t have to be happy about being a mom ALL THE TIME. You can feel every feeling from the highest highs to even the lowest lows. Because feeling is breathing and breathing means you are fully alive.
Your Turn
Do you have burdens that you need to share? Do you have someone you can call or text to share your burdens? I encourage you to have at least one person–a family member, friend, spouse–that you are able to share your burdens. Because, I don’t know about you, but when I share what I’m going through, I can breathe a little easier knowing I’m not alone in the process.
