I don’t know if I was naïve or a dreamer, but things sure didn’t turn out the way I had planned.  I was going to be a lawyer, and I probably would have been a good one.  Then I went through a nasty breakup around the time I needed to apply to law school and it never happened.

I was going to work in Corporate America and climb the ladder of success.  Then I got downsized out of my job, went to work at my church and now I can’t imagine working outside of ministry.

I was going to grow old with my husband, travel, raise the kids, and enjoy our golden years.  He had other plans.  When you’re 37 with young kids and your best friend decides he doesn’t want to be your best friend any more life, as you know it, is over.

Blank slates can be a great place to start new and exciting things, but my slate wasn’t blank.  It had two kids, two jobs, a mortgage and lots of emotional baggage on it.  The slate was so full there was very little space to build a new life.

“So this is how this happens” I thought to myself.  This is how people with plans and dreams, and abilities never realize any of them.  This is how potential dies.  This is where momentum stops.  This is where I get forced into survival mode.  Well crap…this sucks.

You can’t go through big life change without being changed yourself.  We are the product of our life experiences, good or bad.  That made me so angry.  I liked who I was before my marriage ended.  Then, with no say in the matter, I had to go through a traumatic life experience that was going to change me forever.  Everything was going to change no matter how I felt or fought.  Every. Single. Thing.  Once the anger subsided, I determined it was better to ride the wave of change than to swim against it.  Get better or get bitter, right? This would not end me.  Something new would come from all this hurt.

Unfortunately, healing is a long process, and the first step for me was to accept where I was.  It wasn’t pretty.  I was in a house I could barely afford, but I couldn’t stand the idea of taking the kids out of their home.  I had debt that would take years to clean up if I stuck to minimum payments.  I had a job I really enjoyed, but it didn’t allow for any financial breathing room.  I had two young kids who deserved the very best of me, but often got what was left of me.

And somewhere, underneath all the weight of the world, I still had a dream for my own life.  It was hard to make out with tired eyes.  Hard to find it in the midst of homework and housework and work work, but there it was…my purpose and the reason God saw fit to put me here.  It didn’t change with my marital status, my number of kids or jobs.  His purpose for my life was established long before all of that.

I was born to love – plain and simple.  I believe that’s the case for every one of us.  I also believe that God makes each of us tender to different segments of the population.  God made me to love the unlovely.  I am tender to broken people who need someone to see under the layers of bad choices and life circumstances.  God made me to love the messy.  As it turns out, all of my heart aches, life storms, and mistakes were not in vain.  The lessons I learned from all of life’s twists and turns weren’t meant to stay with me.  I am free from those things and one of the greatest rewards of freedom is being able to share the regrets and mistakes of my past without shame.  So I choose to share not only the things that have happened to me, but also the bone-headed, stubborn choices I made that kept me in the wilderness far longer than I needed to stay there.

Sometimes I wish I were one of those meek, obedient Christians.  You know the ones…they read the Word or hear a sermon and automatically apply it to their lives because it’s the right thing to do.  Then there’s me…type A with moderate (ummm sure) control issues.  I apply what I learn too…after I test it, kick and scream about it, and then lose sleep as I argue with God about it.

Still, if it weren’t for people like me, who have to learn lessons the hard way and who had to walk away from what life was “supposed” to be, there would be fewer people to say “I’ve been there.  I’m sorry you’re hurting.  You’re going to make it.” Cause isn’t that what it’s all about?