Lost and Found : Nothing Hidden

I?m wrapped in a blanket, curled up in a fetal position, knees hugged to my chest. I?m no longer crying; I am lifeless and despondent. I feel far away. The therapist is asking me something. ?Are you okay?? Usually I say yes, even when it?s not true. This time I can?t say yes. I know that I?m far from being okay. ?No,? I say. ?You?re a survivor. When you walk out of here today, walk out whole.? I simply nod in response. Am I a survivor? Is it possible for me to ever feel whole again? I have moments when I wonder what is real about me and the life I?ve lived. What if I really am too sensitive? If I were stronger, would my story be less dramatic? I didn?t look tattered or torn. In fact, I appeared just the opposite. Yet the crudely stitched-together mess that I was would never mend unless I exposed my brokenness to light and air. I had to face my truths, accept them, and become willing to offer forgiveness to myself and others. At the beginning of my story, I didn?t feel as though I had any safe places. Not one. Through the heartache of searching out the dark places in my life, I discovered incredible beauty?soft, warm, loving hearts helped heal my damaged one. Truth, love, and grace provided the safe haven for which I was searching.