Thursday, 28 February 2013

Pain Heals, If You Let It.

I sprained my ankle recently. Badly. I was playing tennis, jumped to get a shot (which I still missed) and fell. It hurt. I am sure I heard something rip as I fell. Cue the "Are you ok?" and the "Can you walk?" questions. My first thought was "Don't cry, be brave. It's not that bad."

"I am fine," I replied. "It hurts. It actually really hurts." But I got up. I simply gritted my teeth,smiled and said it'd be okay with a bit of ice and a good nights sleep. I limped home from the bus stop, I put said ice on my foot (which by now was a little blue and swelling up) and then went to bed.

I woke up Monday, felt okay, it was still sore, but by this time the bruising was beginning to show. And it was spectacular. My entire foot was a plethora of different colours. I had to function so I couldn't just do nothing. I gritted my teeth and kept going.

In short, by Wednesday I was in pain. I was still able to limp but the shooting pains across my foot and periodic pins and needles were agony. It was time to admit defeat: perhaps I needed the hospital. My very good  BEST friend drove me to A&E after my lectures and we sat and I waited to be seen to. By this point the pain was excruciating and I was beginning to see the extent of the injury. I was scolded numerous times by friends, and by family for not getting help when it happened, and even then my overwhelming thought was "I didn't cry. Not once." When my friend (with one of the highest pain thresholds I've ever seen) said "Why? I would... it looks awful," I was speechless.

I didn't fall apart, I just carried on. I thought that's what you were supposed to do. Pick yourself up,wipe yourself down and keep going. That is how life goes right? Something bad happens and you just move on. You just keep going. You have to.

After being told that I hadn't broken my ankle, but sprained it I was relieved. I just needed to rest up and look after it and use the crutches reluctantly given to me by a nurse. But I have hated every day I have had to use them. They produce a wealth of concerned looks, pitying voices and "Are you okay?" questions, which meant I couldn't just get on with everything. I couldn't just pretend like it was all fine. I was faced in the form of a blue/purple/yellow ankle, to admit that I needed help. And I hated that. Every single concerned voice seemed to hit a nerve, seemed to feel like salt in the wound. Mainly because I felt like what I'd been so good at doing for so long (burying it and carrying on) was not possible anymore... even if only due to a physical pain/injury. I have to let people look after me. I have to ask people to help me out. That is something I find physically painful to do. Somewhere along the line I have started to believe that if I don't cry then I am a big girl, if I don't show pain then I am a grown up. Right now, I know a lot of people who would simply call it stupidity.

In short, please don't let it take you a painful injury and a beautifully bruised foot to realise that tears aren't weak and that it is in fact perfectly okay, and even expected to seek help when you struggle. Trust me. I found out the hard way, that wounds won't start to heal unless you start to admit that you are hurt.

Tuesday, 26 February 2013

This is For You

This is for the times you've been underestimated. This is for the times when everything good feels like it's falling apart. This is for the times people have brought you down. This is for the times when you feel like there's nothing left. This is for the times when you feel like you can't fight any more. This is for the times when you've cried so much there's nothing left, just numbness. This is for the times when one person too many has broken your trust. This is for the times when you feel hopeless.  This is for the times when you feel like things will never change. This is for when you feel you've fallen too far to be loved.

You are beautiful. You are precious. You are strong. You are courageous. Life throws us a bad lot sometimes but it doesn't mean you should believe what people tell you. You are better than what is hurting you. Admitting you're hurting isn't weak. It means you are strong enough to admit you can't make it alone. Hearts get broken, people get hurt, but wounds heal and hearts learn to love again. It seems dark now but the light will come.

You might feel like you can't be reached but you don't know Jesus. NOTHING can separate you from his love. He will take you up into his arms, brush off the dirt, bandage those wounds and teach you to hope again.

Don't ever let anyone make you feel like you have to be someone else. You are you for a reason. Hold on to that.

Wednesday, 6 February 2013

If I Could

If I could tell you how much I care,
I would write it in the sand,
I would paint it in a picture,
But would I dare?

If I could show you how much I care,
I would take you in my arms,
I would shower you with kisses,
But would I dare?

If you could see how much I care,
Would you feel the same?
Would you write it in the sky?
Would you tell me you'll be mine?
Would you tell me it'll be fine?
Or will it stay a secret, buried for all of time?

Tuesday, 5 February 2013


Escaping means different things to different people. For me it means going to my favourite place in the whole world for a long long walk and losing myself amongst the beauty of the skyline and feeling the cool sea breeze in my face while I pray that tomorrow is better.
"It has to be." I whisper under my breath to noone in particular. I feel the wind hit my face. It's freezing outside but the wind feels refreshing and it smells like freedom. There is no one around but the odd dog walker here and there. The view is glorious. The ocean ripples with the brilliant white of the sun bouncing off it, while the cliffs stand tall with their sharp pale faces being met by the quiet thrashings of the waves breaking against them. The countryside is peppered with houses, the green hills rolling into one another and the sky is so blue it almost hurts to look at. It all seems so perfect and so beautiful. I really felt like there was no-one who could touch me and I loved the feeling of being practically lost in my surroundings. I twirled in the grass and smiled up at the sky. It was escape. It was this I had been craving for so long. It was this I had been wanting for months. To get to a place where who I was didn't matter, to get to a place where yesterday didn't count, tomorrow didn't matter and now was everything.

"Child," I heard a voice speak. But there was no one around. It stirred my heart and filled my stomach with butterflies. "I know who you are, and I love you." The voice was velvety, soothing and tender, yet full of strength. I was stunned. I fell silent and just stopped. The truth astounded me and stopped me dead in my tracks. He loves me. Jesus. God. The Creator of all things loves me. I simply stood for a moment letting the breeze sweep my face and once again gazed at the impossible beauty surrounding me. Of course he does.
"Of course you do," I whisper to myself, once again smiling up at the sky. I felt like the whole landscape had been written for me, just when I needed it. He was bringing me into his arms and showing me what he did for me, what he could do for me and what he would always do for me.

"But I feel suffocated. Free me." I spoke a little louder this time. I was enveloped by the voice, enveloped by the whole place. It was magical.

"You are free child. Do not worry about tomorrow, for grace will help you through, and do not worry about yesterday because that is past. Enjoy this, enjoy today, enjoy me," I was overwhelmed. I could say nothing and I let the burdens go. I twirled and danced and ran. I became a child again. I escaped. I found freedom in the arms of my Father.