{written two days ago}Guess what? I'm a patch. Yep, you saw that correctly. I am a patch. Guess what else? So are you. I'm so excited, exhausted, honored, and a bunch of other complicated emotions I can't begin to name, that I could bust...or more likely, just pass out. But I hope I don't. I hope before this emotional exhaustion captures and drags me into dreamy oblivion I am able to explain.
If you have read this blog for any amount of time...or bothered looking at the subtitle...you know that I starting this thing as a kind of therapy to help me work through issues like depression, anxiety and panic. I have been in real therapy for these issues for over a year and tonight I learned that it's quite possible I have wasted a whole lot of money. Maybe wasted is a strong word...but I digress. Tonight, in a room filled with 14 faithful women ranging in age from mid-40s to late teens, I learned more about myself and my God than I have in over 16 months of therapy.
We were all put in that room by our church's youth minister. He asked us to go into a room and "bond" by sharing our stories. He gave us an hour...silly man. One after one, I watched as each woman bore her heart and shared her story. With each one more gripping than the last. These are women I have seen at church, in many cases, for years. I am ashamed to admit I had lumped most of them into "they have it all together, they could never understand what I deal with" category. On the totum pole of WRONG I rate below the man purse and perms. These women shared stories that, were the world to get a hold of them, would be turned into Emmy-award winning miniseries. These women have seen brokenness, they have experienced tragedy, and each of them is a living miracle and a testimony of the love of Jesus.
They trusted me with their stories so I won't betray that by describing them here, but I'll tell you how they affected me. I began the storytelling, and not wanting to be the spotlight hog for a change, kept it very brief. I didn't go into any of the issues you know about. Just where I came from and how I met Jesus on my personal road to Damascus. Then I sat for three hours (like I said, silly youth pastor man) while, one by one, they spoke of painful relationships, abuse, tragedy, heartaches and visions. They unloaded feelings of guilt, inequity, and shame. After three hours of unpacking, I have never felt so clean.
As we sat in that circle we all realized something amazing. Each of us, though our stories vastly different, had a piece of the story before. There were common family dynamics, or common feelings, or common results. We all found something in each person's testimony we could relate to. The most important being that somewhere in the midst of life's trials, we met Jesus. For some he came as the Great Counselor, some needed him as the Father. To one woman, in particular, he came as the Savior. He showed up for each of us in different ways. Tonight, He showed up as my Healer and Redeemer.
After all was said, and eyes were once again dry. One woman said we were like a quilt. Each patch is different, but when they are all sewn together they make a magnificent tapestry that wouldn't look complete without the others. All of our stories have been sewn together with a crimson thread. Within their patches I found healing and hope. The quilt we wove tonight, 14 strangers, I plan to keep with me forever. I will look at each patch, as the events in my life unfold, to find strength in the story.
Each of us has a story, no matter how blase you think your life is. Each person has a choice of how much to share. You can infuse your story with all the colors in the rainbow, or leave it with just a few threads. Either way, you are a patch and I beg you from the bottom of my heart: FIND A QUILT. And watch how God unfolds a story of redemption.
