Broken Wings

You’re soaring along, enjoying the view, feeling grateful, and boom! Life throws you a curveball and breaks your wings. Like a wounded bird, you plummet, desperately seeking a place of refuge.

 

Most of us have journeyed through life carrying the burden of broken wings. We’ve wobbled around wounded—bearing scars from our past. Despite our ability to persevere on the ground, we’d often found ourselves unable to soar to our full potential. 

 

At a low point in my life, faith became my solace. Just as a mother bird spreads her wings over her babies to protect them, as I wept and wrestled with the broken pieces of my life, I felt safe and secure and shielded under the protection of my Father’s wings. There’s no better place to hide, in my opinion. 

 

Yet, despite my hesitance to leave the nest (my comfort zone), God’s plan wasn’t to keep me safely tucked away but to grace me with a new set of wings. And as I began to soar, I persevered through many uncomfortable headwinds. 

One obstacle I will share is the headwind of shame. 

 

Carl Jung called shame “the swampland of the soul.”

 

Berne Brown says, “Shame needs three things to survive: silence, secrecy, and judgment.”

 

I write about the creative deception shame can have on our psyche, not as an expert, but from a vulnerable place based on my experiences because I know how shame breaks human wings (spirits) and limits one’s ability to soar (thrive).

 

Firstly, shame is different from guilt. When we’re guilty, we feel remorse or regret for our actions. 

 

Shame, on the other hand, goes much deeper. Whether based on society’s perception of who we are or rooted in formative years, shame is toxic and crippling and leads us to believe that something is inherently wrong with us, that we are inadequate and unworthy of love and belonging, and that we can never measure up. 

 

Often, we aren’t aware of toxic shame, or if we are, we intentionally conceal it because talking about it is too awkward, too painful, and too complicated. As a result, silenced, secretive, and beaten down by judgment, our shame survives; our shame wins, and our wings remain broken. 

 

At a very young age (while I struggled to understand this until a couple of decades ago), shame began to weave its way into every fiber of my being. 

 

Growing up poor, being bullied, and struggling to fit in led me to believe I was inherently flawed and defective. These experiences made me feel ashamed of who I was. They broke my wings and bound me in the nest of deceit, holding me back from soaring with the rest of the flock. 

 

Sure, I preserved on the ground. But shame had caused me to shrink and feel insignificant. Shame had taken away my power, and because of shame, I flailed about—voiceless. 

 

Unless we bring our shame into the light and peel away the layers, it will continue to lurk in the shadows and chip away at our self-worth, whispering lies and robbing us of the beauty of our bird’s eye view. More importantly, it'll have far-reaching ramifications on our mental health. 

 

I’m no doubt soaring differently today. My wings are more resilient. I have a renewed strength, a knowing that even when life’s circumstances threaten to plummet me, Grace will be there to carry me forward. Thank you, Jesus! 

 

“But those who trust in the Lord will renew their strength; they will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not become weary, they will walk and not faint.” - Isaiah 40:31

U-turns

Have you ever been in a situation where you passionately pursued a dream but later found yourself questioning whether it was part of God’s plan for your life? If so, it likely was a difficult place, especially when you invested so much time, effort, and resources into making your dream a reality.

When we find ourselves in this state of questioning, we may feel lost and unsure of what to do next. We might even consider taking a U-turn away from our dream and (in the process) ignore our goals and place them on the “wrong direction shelf.” 

But then—when we least expect it—God intervenes and gives us a sign to make a U-turn back to our passion, reminding us that we were on the right track and that He had our back all along. 

It could be something subtle, like an encounter with someone who shares our beliefs, or something more significant, like a miraculous achievement that exceeds all expectations. Either way, it serves as a reminder to be patient and have faith in God's plan, even when His methods are unclear.

I’ve experienced self-doubt about my writing abilities. Negative thoughts such as, “You’re uneducated. You have nothing to offer. No one cares about what you have to say,” had made me second-guess myself where I wanted to take a U-turn away from writing altogether.

In those times of doubt, God showed up and spoke to me in odd and unexplainable ways that left an indelible mark on my heart and rendered me speechless. Interestingly, it was usually through other people that He redirected my attention back towards my passion.

We all succumb to negative thoughts and fears, but God often places wonderful people in our lives who can help us grow beyond those fears and blossom in ways we never thought possible. Whether for a season or the long haul, they impact us for a lifetime.

As we enter into Spring, the season of renewal, we’re about to witness the diverse beauty of nature bursting into full bloom once again. This breath of new life reminds me of all the diverse individuals who have inspired and helped shape me into the person God intended me to be. Am I still a work in progress? Absolutely. But God has used my U-turn like a boomerang, returning the broken petals of my soul into bloom again. 

To all the wonderful people at Burns, I’m grateful for your constant encouragement and for reading my Roots and Wings writings over the years. Your support has given me some of those “God moments” I’m referring to, which has helped me grow and publish my first book, “Bray and the Adventures of Zorkon.” Thank you so much for being a part of my journey.

The unique qualities that run through every fiber of our being are the roadmap to our spiritual enlightenment provided by our Creator. He has blessed us with talents and invites us all to pursue our dreams. Yes, it’s a given we will face obstacles and setbacks, but if God has destined our path, He will pave the way.

Why I Am Grateful for Rock Bottom

There's no shame in hitting rock bottom. What matters is that we strive to rise daily; what matters is that we endure the pitfalls along the way and become the person we were created to be.

 

I awoke in a fog of despair, not wanting to get out of bed. I knew it wasn't just another bad day. I knew it wasn't just a matter of "getting up and getting over it" because it felt like my body had been drained of energy, leaving me void of any hope of climbing out of the dark, eerie hole I'd found myself in. 

Cradled in a fetal position, sobbing, my heart ached unbearably for answers to the questions circling in my head: How did I get to this place? Who am I? And what is the purpose and meaning of life? 

Through sheer exhaustion, I was compelled to remember her: that strong-willed, tenacious person—who’s never been a quitter but rather a fighter. She was the one I tapped into. She was the one who gave me the fortitude to rise. She was the one who prodded me: "Do you want your story to end at the bottom."

"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."- Maya Angelou

It's been over a decade now since I put pen to paper and began writing through the recollections of my emotional baggage, where I've found incredible insights into the experiences that'd shaped me, helping me to lean into the pain, allowing me to move into the acceptance of that pain.

How did I arrive at rock bottom? 

 

In retrospect, I didn't just wake that morning to find myself there. Consequently, I’d been running from myself for years. I hid behind masks. I had built walls so thick around my heart, you would've needed a sledgehammer to beat them down. The truth is, I'd ignored so many red flags that my past was spiraling me down until it eventually landed me at rock bottom.

 

To be frank, no one could have saved me. Not my husband, not my kids, not my friends. I had to be the one to take charge of my life. I had to be the one to throw away the blame game, the pity parties, the "woe is me" attitude, the victim mentality. And it didn't happen overnight. I am still a work in progress. Darkness still exits. But the difference now is: So does God.

Ironically, I'd struggled to believe that God was even there with me in my pain that morning. But I sure believe it now, that He knew it wasn't the end, that my rock bottom was no surprise to Him. It was where I needed to be all along. Only then could He heal me and help rebuild my life in the way He had designed. All I needed to do was reach for His hand and abandon my way of living. In other words, I had to take my hands off the wheel. 

While rock bottom is subjective, what we all have in common are choices: The choice to change, the choice to heal, the choice to seek help, the choice to say, "There is no way my story is ending at the bottom. I am worthy of so much more, and I will scratch and crawl my way out of this dark hole to find me." Or we can choose to stay stuck in the mire.

I can say wholeheartedly today that I've never been more grateful for my rock bottom experience. 

Why?

Because it led me to Christ.

 

Because it forced me to look in the mirror and ask the hard questions.

Because it pulled off my masks, crumbled down walls, ultimately leading to my truest self.

 

Because it taught me about self-love and self-compassion.

And because it gave me insight and understanding into the experiences that had shaped me, imparting the wisdom and knowledge needed to help others.

Perhaps you are reading this and (like I did) feel void of hope. Listen: You are stronger than you think. While the climb to the top won't be easy, while you will make strides one day and feel like quitting the next, keep pushing forward, remembering to take the time to rest and breathe along the way. I assure you: One day you will stand on the summit and shout: "I did it! All the moans and groans to get here were worth it!"

Finding the Rainbow in Grief

Just as the many faces of grief represent some of life's darkest hours, for me, a rainbow is a symbolic reminder of how God's light pierces through the darkness and offers hope beyond the storm.

Do you know there are ultraviolet and infrared light/colors present in a rainbow? But the naked eye can only pick up the seven colors of the spectrum: Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and Violet.

Let's assume the vibrant colors of the rainbow symbolically express the layers of beauty life has to offer, and the colors not seen represent the segments of adversity we face. After all, life isn't always beautiful. There are periods of time when it can be cruel and littered with hardships, and losing a loved one is one such hardship.

Those of us who have walked (or who are walking) through the valley of grief, know it's impossible to see anything colorful in the rawness of grief. We find it hard to believe there will be better days, brighter days ahead.

And while there's no timeline for grief—life, however, cannot go forward until the storm within us begins to subside. Only then will the rainbows vibrant colors slowly filter back into our lives. No doubt we will see them in a different light, but through perseverance and God's guidance, the hurtful memories will fade, and we will find a pot of gold within the treasured memories of our loved one.

I know this to be true in my own life. I will never forget the dreaded phone call that forever changed me. Losing my mom of 56 years to a massive heart attack (in August of 1987) plunged me into a dark place, where grief virtually took me down an unhealthy road toward a mental breakdown.

I couldn't see the beauty of the rainbow anymore. I was being sucked into, what felt like, a whirling vortex, void of color. I tried each day to kick into survival mode, to put one foot in front of the other for my four-year-old daughter and five-month-old son, leaving me little time to give attention to what was, indeed, happening inside my body. There was no checklist to help me navigate through grief, no access to grief resources like we have today. Besides, it was as if grief and depression carried a greater stigma back then—an awkwardness—you might say, which made it even harder to admit that I needed help.

But with hindsight comes perspective: My near breakdown was a breakthrough into the window of my grief, the beginning of my healing process.

In our unique way, we will forever mourn our loved ones. There will always be a part of us that feels sadness over their loss. Having said that, though, as they continue to live on in our heart, we will be able to enjoy the beauty of the rainbow once again—through the many memories we'd shared together.