Sowing into Brokenness

A little less than two months ago, I felt like my world shattered. I knew I had already had a prolapsed uterus after I gave birth to my second youngest, but I didn't realize just how bad it was getting until my symptoms had become unbearable and debilitating. Apparently, my prolapse had gotten to a stage three and me feeling like my insides were falling out, really was three of my organs prolapsing and putting constant pressure on my bladder, and all my fascial tissues torn in a way that physical therapy wouldn't be enough. I felt so deeply broken. With my boot camp closing its doors during the pandemic, I had started a routine that I loved, jogging with my kids three days/week during leg day where I also did all kinds of other leg and ab workouts and alternated lifting weights with the used Bowflex I purchased from selling different things on the marketplace, jumping on my mini trampoline, using a db method machine I also bought, and planking. I found out from a girl in a prolapse support group I joined who also had to learn the hard way, that everything I was doing only progressed my prolapse. She praised surgery, but was told she wouldn't be able to lift more than twenty pounds for the rest of her life, and was terrified of starting up a workout routine again. I was deeply distressed at the thought of never being able to lift my kids or future grandkids. I read how I could get a hysterectomy, but there's still a chance of other organs prolapsing in the future, so, many doctors suggest getting one's ovaries taken out as well, only to need to replace estrogen for life, or risk bone cancer. My only other option seemed to be daily putting in and taking out a foreign object from my body that still has the potential to cause toxic shock syndrome or UTI's or a multitude of other side effects, and wouldn't allow any normality in my workouts, but would at least put a stop to the gravitational pull on my organs when it was in. Nothing seemed like a good option, and I was overwhelmed with a depression I wasn't sure I could shake. On my way to a church meeting alone that weekend, I saw two girls jogging on the side of the road, and while I was so happy for them, I found my eyes welling up with tears as I felt like I couldn't hold myself together anymore. I didn't know how to accept my present state or escape my reality in a healthy way. I kept trying to remind myself that God wouldn't allow me to go through this if it couldn't be used for good. Per the suggestion of our women's pastor, I sought the help of a life couch and mentor, after she said how we can often hold tension in our bodies when we have faced hurt or trauma that another friend reiterated. I started doing a deceptively hard workout called Xtend Barre that uses lighter weights and moves my body in ways that are far more elegant and womanly than I'm used to and are more acceptable to do with a prolapse. I joined Noom to work on food freedom again while still maintaining a caloric deficit, and I started focusing on resting and healing from the inside out. During this time, I felt led to read a book called "The Dance of the Dissident Daughter" that I finished tonight. I can't say that I came to all of the same conclusions as Kidd or that I would feel comfortable performing some of the rituals she has. However, I am so grateful for her journey and her bravery in speaking it. It helped shed so much light on some hidden pain in my own life that I couldn't even put a name on and expanded on some ideas I felt God was already sharing with me. I found myself underlining a lot in her book and discussing different insight with my husband. I've been told that I internalize pain so well that my husband often argues with me when I tell him I'm in pain or struggling because he simply doesn't even believe me. Apparently, my sister who watched my second baby being born agrees with him. There's always been this underlying fear in my life that if I truly dug deep into my brokenness and let myself express my pain, I'd lose all sense of self-control and be unable to compose myself again. However, I'm learning that whenever you try to numb yourself and shut out pain or anger or any kind of emotion, you also become too hardened and stiff to receive anything good as well. I'm learning that brokenness is not something to fear, avoid, or shy away from, but rather to sow into. It's a necessary part of growth. Through everything I've been going through, God has been breaking through some really hardened soil in my life and sowing some beautiful truths in forgotten, deep, and painful places. He's reminding me all over again that He doesn't waste seasons, I'm not alone (by Him or others who are experiencing similar things), He hasn't forgotten me, and He'll use everything for my good-even these hard times. I'm learning what it means to be a woman, what it means to be made in the image of God, and finding value in rest, which is so hard for me to do. Once I came to accept my reality and moved past dwelling on my grief, I read this book, progressed some more in writing to about 60% of my book goal, I've finished two challenges with Xtend Barre, lost six pounds from when I started with Noom, and found out from my doctor, he can do a surgery where he doesn't take anything out and just adds sutures in three different areas to hold up my uterus again. There shouldn't be any weight restrictions for me in the extended future, and I should be able to jog again someday just fine. While I'm waiting on surgery, I won't deny the possibility that the One who knit me together in my mother's womb could sew all the tears of my life back together again. I'm relishing on the idea that I've never gotten so close to experiencing the great love Christ has for us by dying on the cross, flesh torn apart, and still thinking we're worth it as I can as a woman. I know that I too feel the same way about all my kids even in their most loud, messy, fighting and argumentative moments. I would do it all again if I had to in order to bring them about into this world. Life is so messy and weathered and beautiful. As I grieve and release the tension and pain I've buried deep inside, I choose to sow His grace and truth into my brokenness, and remind myself that rainbows only come after the storms.

~*WEATHERED HEART*~

You left your heart open For far too long Thought it was invincible Couldn't be more wrong

You didn't use an umbrella To shelter it from rain You didn't know storms Could weather so much pain

Now you're left With a torn, weathered heart You've tried to mend it some But it's easily torn apart

And your heart Once thought to easily survive Is just dying Dying to stay alive

In an attempt to Rescue itself from more pain It closed itself up To shelter floods of rain

And the door of your heart Was shut to many-a helpful knock And in order to survive It would have to unlock

It would have to open up To see blue skies again And it would need to let the Son Take the place of sin

It would have to risk dying In order to survive And it would have to open up If it ever wanted to thrive

And with one last gasping Breath of air It cried out with strength You never knew existed there

It cried out for mercy It cried out for grace It cried out for healing To take place

It cried out for forgiveness Of not opening up before When the Helper chose To knock on its door

And it opened up Wider than ever It chose to risk everything If it was its last endeavor

And the floods came And the rain But it wasn't like ones before It washed away the pain

And the Son came He helped your heart thrive And with His help Your heart will always survive

You leave your heart open now Never to close Sometimes storms may come But they leave with rainbows -R.A.D.