Today, I am broken-hearted. This is a lesson I never wanted to learn, but I am here, so I will trudge through it. 

Have you ever had something, unexpectedly, reignite a passion within you? I have, and I am now looking at it going away. I am looking at something that reminded me how much I love to be creative and write getting ready to move on without me. I never really thought I would be in this place. As much as I keep reminding myself that all things are temporary, I lost focus on this one. 

When I moved back to Minneapolis in August, I moved into my childhood bedroom with all my things in a storage unit and began a job at the church I grew up in. All of these things were supposed to be temporary. Considering I just moved everything out of my storage unit and into my parent’s basement, we can guess which one is now more permanent. This whole journey has been a little more intense than I originally anticipated. There have been a few more tears, and a few more roller coaster turns than I originally planned.

But maybe that’s the part of the story that keeps me hanging on. It’s the pain of the story that makes a reader turn the page. Maybe it’s the conflict, resolution, romance, sorcery… wait not sorcery… but all the other things, maybe those are the reasons we fall in love with a story. Maybe it’s the faith of the readers that the characters will find resolution and accomplish their far fetched dreams that keeps a story flying off the shelves. 

Right now, I am in pain. My heart is broken. I fully invested in something that was never guaranteed long term. Some of my broken-heartedness is my fault, but not all of it. I have dug myself a hole of lies where I feel at home in misery. I hate doing this. I am a smart chick, I know when I’m being ridiculous. I also hate what I am about to do. I am going to mention the bright side of things. I hate doing this most of all because it comes back to bite me in the bum sometimes. Alright, here goes. 

I was recently reading an article by Chuck Klosterman about Tim Tebow. All football aside, Klosterman articulated ‘faith’ in a way that I had never thought about before.

The only time “faith” seems negative is when it’s prefaced by the word “blind.” But blind faith is the only kind of faith there is. In order for someone’s faith to be meaningful, it has to be blind. Anyone can believe a hard fact that everyone already accepts. That’s easy. If you can see something, you don’t need faith. Faith in the seeable is meaningless. But meaningful faith is dangerous. It simplifies things that aren’t simple. “

The hard fact that I know? I know that the sun will come out tomorrow, that there is something else out there for me in this world. I know, without a doubt, that there is a sweet job, great friends, and love still to be written into my story. I have faith, blind or not that I am still in the writing process with a pen to the page. I will face more heartbreak. I will face more trials, and disappointments, in fact, I see one coming down the line in the near future, but that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that I know my heart will heal, it has before. I know that I will learn to forgive, I have before. 

More important than all of that, I know I am talented, adored, hilarious, confident, smart, creative, worthwhile, fun, capable and worthy to be loved and love someone in return and on top of all of that wonderfulness that I already am, I am growing, creating, becoming better and becoming more than what people try to make me. I refuse to give up, give in, or compromise my integrity because of some lie I am believing. 

I think Donald Miller said it best, “It’s not what people do that scares me, it’s what they hide. It’s the secrets that keep us from bonding and building mistrust.”

I refuse to hide or have something to hide, so today I will boldly say that I am brokenhearted and no amount of sweet assurances or positive compliments will change that there is someone “better” than me and I think it’s a shame.