I walked into church yesterday fully aware that I would most likely fall apart. For all my apparent strength in the past few weeks, facing the unknown, I knew that just behind it all was this falling to pieces. Instead I smiled.."Yes Im doing fine! Yes its all in Gods hands, that life growing in me wasn't meant for us! Yes I trust him fully, he knew whether we should have another baby or whether we should face the pain of losing it!" And it was true I do believe these things, I do know he can be trusted. But I also know that something in me knew that I needed to fall apart.
Five seconds in amongst smiling faces, sweet babies playing, I was feeling the hurt rise up, the tears choking out my normal laughing self and I started fighting the falling apart I so desperately needed. A few songs later and I was uncontrollable crying, telling Scott I needed to leave "NOW", head falling to his shoulder and wanting to hide my falling apart. Because truth is Im afraid of people seeing me raw, afraid of being out of control, afraid of make up running, unable to catch my breath pain.
However sometimes falling apart is the only way to die to oneself and produce the life God intended for us (John 12:24). And I wonder what it would have produced in me had I run to the altar Sunday instead of running to the bathroom..make up running, unable to catch my breath, head falling to HIS shoulder. If I hadnt fought so hard to hold it together and been more comfortable in the falling apart. What victory wouldve been won had I fought through the Easter morning crowd and ran to touch His garment, ugly face crying, seeking a healing for a hurt that goes far beyond losing my pregnancy? Had I only been aware of His presence and not the presence of others in that place?
Sometimes I think Im so afraid of being the "mad" woman that I hide my desperation. I write it into blog post, but keep a part of it hidden from others around me. I hide it from myself quite well at times also. But honestly Im tired. Im tired of holding it all together, very poorly I might add. Im tired of worrying what others think of me, voice quaking at the thought of being heard. Im tired of falling apart to just the point that I still appear sane, when I know damn well I am far from it. And though God knows Im desperate for Him, He's seen me fall apart, I know Im missing something by not allowing myself to fall fully in the company of others.
Perhaps thats why I always feel like Im falling apart all over again, because I never fell fully in the first place. I've never allowed myself to fall completely apart, be completely broken. Be broken like bread, like Christ on the cross.
Yesterday He called me to it, to be broken and I ran from it. I can only pray I want run from it again and when He whispers, "Come"; I will fall fully.