I wrote this over 6 months ago, but I’m feeling it even more now than then. If you read my post from last week when I talked about a part of me dying, you’ll see why.
“Hi, my name’s Kim. What’s your name?”
And that’s how my heart spoke.
The memory came back crystal clear. Seemingly out of nowhere. I was picking up trash, straightening chairs, preparing the room for the next morning when we would come together again.
I was in Nebraska with a group of 100 women who had come together bravely to dream, encourage, and let their hearts speak. And amidst their words, I was hearing His . . LOUD.
Telling me to lean in to awkward.
To draw close when I wanted to withdraw.
To be generous with my words and not play it “safe” for fear of rejection.
And now, in this empty room, I remembered her. I saw her. She was me, in fourth grade, greeting the new girl like I always did.
Unafraid.
But that was before. Before the fickle tide turned in my small private school. Against me. And I was left drowning, flailing, gasping for acceptance for the next long four years.
And the little girl whose heart once spoke loud went mute.
(Nowadays they call it “bullying.” As a former “victim” of this phenomena, I hate that term. Not because it wasn’t true, I was being bullied. But because of the idea that somehow a campaign will resolve the meanness that resides in kids’ hearts. Something like “Just say no.” It’s too simplistic. Without the real lessons of conviction, sorrow, repentance, forgiveness, and love (the Gospel), telling children to be kind results in self-righteous pride at best and greater resolve to bully at worst. But I digress . . .)
The little girl eventually recovered. Well, mostly. Found her prince. Raised her big family. And even went on to speak LOUD from a podium, into a mic, encouraging the very women who had silenced her so many years before.
But she didn’t forget. She’d learned to read the signs . . evaluate, analyze, weigh the risks . . before she stepped in.
But now, in this silent room and in the safety of this community, she found her voice once more. And she spoke. LOUD.
And I felt her freedom and friendship flowing again. Beating strong. Offering the gift of her friendship with faith in its goodness.
Fearless.
“Hi, my name’s Kim. What’s your name?”
Leaning in to awkward . .
Giving thanks for . . .
~ faithful friends
~ the gift of friendship given and received
~ the multitude of ways my GOOD God has redeemed my past and worked all things together for my good and His glory
~ how His faithfulness and goodness gives me hope for myself and my family’s future
I’m celebrating Thirty Days of Thanks by posting my list of thanks here daily for 30 days. You can join me every day or any day by posting your thanks in the comments, by posting at Winsome Woman on Facebook, and/or posting on your own FB wall!
I love you, friend! So grateful God connected us!
Thank you, Holley! Your influence, encouragement, and love have given me such courage. You are a gift! I love you too! XO
oh kim, i love you too and the book you sent me friend? it's changing my life. truly. you are a God-send to me. XOXO
Emily, I'm smiling so big here! Your influence and encouragement first found me when I started blogging four years ago and gave me the courage to keep on. That I can be a blessing to you makes me so happy! And yes, that book has and continues to change my life. I'm so glad it's blessing you, friend! XO