For months, I’ve been fighting with myself and the Lord about writing this blog. This is me, being open, being vulnerable, doing something that the worldly part of me does not want to write, but the child of God in me, the most important part of me knows that I have to. So… here goes nothing…
We must know sorrow to be able to fully appreciate joy. Joy costs pain, but pain is worth it. After all, the murder had to take place before the resurrection. -Katie Davis, Kisses From Katie
When I read that this morning, I knew it was exactly how I knew I needed to start this blog. Because it describes exactly how I’ve been feeling, what I’ve felt. Sorrow… and a lot of joy, but I know mostly it’s just been a lot of sorrow, and sometimes it feels like sorrow will never stop. But these words have assured me that I will be able to fully appreciate joy, but it costs pain, it costs sorrow. That I will be able to be blessed, but I have to walk through the valley first. The Lord promises us these things because He had to suffer. He had to have blood dripping from his body while his body was nailed to a cross, in order to bless us. I know I will be blessed, but let me tell you a little bit about sorrow, about pain.
Some days are hard, some days I cry, some days are good, some days I don’t cry. It’s life. But there have been parts of the race I feel as though I’ve done a lot more crying than usual. I’ve thought that I’m silly and that I don’t understand why the Lord is putting me through so much pain. In times of tears I cry out to Him and ask Him “Why me? Why are you putting this kind of pain on me?” And He constantly reassures me to wait, and that His goal isn’t to inflict pain onto me, but to bless me. Sometimes though it’s so hard to keep that mindset when it’s the third night in a row and you’re crying into your pillow hoping no one notices. (It’s happened, it’s sad, I know.)
It’s the painful truth of heartbreak. The painful truth of sacrifice.
I love the feeling of being loved. And for a long time I thought I could do that with just one person, someone who I committed myself to for 3 and 1/2 years. It was up until month one of the race that I was in a relationship. From my freshman year of high school to September 2017. That was until the Lord told me I needed to make a sacrifice. That He needed to heal my heart. He made it clear that this boy who had given me so much joy, countless hours of laughter, an abundance of happy memories, a full heart, wasn’t “the one.” It broke me. I didn’t think I was strong and courageous enough to not only hurt my heart, but hurt someone else’s. I did not want to make that sacrifice. For a while I told the Father who showers us in yes’s, no and no again and no again. Until I was walking in conviction, and I knew I needed to rip the band-aid off, and make the sacrifice. So I did, and it has been the most painful band-aid I’ve ever had to rip off. It didn’t only rip off the hairs on my arm, but skin off my heart too. I cried and cried, and sometimes still cry.
In the beginning I didn’t think I could bear the pain, in the beginning it wasn’t fruit bearing, it was just straight up painful. All I craved was to be told that I was beautiful and loved, a long hug from my parents, my brothers to take me out for ice cream, my best friend to lay in my bed with me while I cried, but I didn’t get anything of that; all I got was a flooded dorm room in the Dominican Republic during a hurricane. The hurricane didn’t teach me anything profound, it just taught me that the the harder it rained, the harder I cried. We spent the shortest amount of time in the Dominican, but it has felt like the longest. I didn’t want to get out of bed, I wanted to go home, I didn’t want to be in so much pain, I didn’t want to put on a fake smile and fake a laugh. I wasn’t me. The days seemed long, and I felt lonely. Nothing reminded me of happiness. I didn’t believe that a God that loved me so much would put me through that much pain. I swore to myself that if the rest of the race felt like this that I would go home; I was not living a life I wanted to. Soon enough it was time to leave. I didn’t feel different, I felt so unbearably empty. I didn’t feel any healing, I was confused. Why did my God who promised me He would heal my heart, leave my heart so empty, so broken, so wounded?
I felt like I had no identity. I wasn’t co-existing with the person I had been with for so long. I learned the importance of a healthy relationship, and how to co-exist with someone, within a span of 3 and 1/2 years, and I felt as though being a single girl, I couldn’t use any of those lessons anymore. My identity for so long was being so and so’s girlfriend and it was stripped away. I felt like a stray puppy, without a home, without a family, without love, without knowing who I was. I went into the Dominican with high spirits and high hopes, full of love and compassion that I wanted to spill out, with an understanding of who I was(it was a false understanding), and came out empty, with no energy, with no hope, and on top of all that I had no idea who I was.
Then we left the Dominican and somehow ended up in Haiti. I remember being so emotionally unstable leaving the Dominican that I even cried for hours during the bus ride from there to Haiti. But as soon as we crossed the border I saw rolling hills, and gorgeous bright colored flowers. Looking at the beautiful things the Lord created gave me that pinch of hope I know I needed in that moment. The month I was going to spend in Haiti started off well, really well. Granted I was ignoring pain and shoving it all down, but I was happy. I was staying at a ministry full of hope, grace, and love and I felt it… Until about the middle of the month, right around the time of my birthday. Then it hit me, the not wanting to get out of bed again, the not knowing of who I was, the homesickness, wanting to go home so badly, the realization that the people around me weren’t my family who I’ve spent every single birthday with my entire life, that I felt so lost, so unloved. One day I was so homesick mentally that it was turning physical, I cried so hard to one of my teammates, and they insisted I stayed home from ministry to process. I was emotionally and spiritually and mentally drained. I was so trapped and I felt as though I would feel this pain forever. Then suddenly it was my birthday, honestly a day I don’t want to live over, I think I cried so much that day I became dehydrated. I realized how much I missed going out to dinner with him, getting showered in hugs, dressing fancy, feeling beautiful. So I cried and cried again, and again. (Basically I just cried a lot, a lot of the time.) The day after my birthday I realized, I couldn’t keep living like this. I knew I was growing missionally, we did house visits all day everyday, and I was being fulfilled by that, but intimately with the Lord, I was drained, and I knew I couldn’t keep pouring out if I was running dry. I was dry, I was as dry as the desert I was living in. So I finally sat down with the Lord and said “Where’s my healing that you said was coming? I’m ready. I’m ready to listen. I’m not throwing myself a pity party any longer.” And that’s when things started happening…
I must have been crazy to think that this healing process was going to be short and sweet. Because trust me, it’s been far from it, and it’s not even close to over. The Lord is continually reminding how sweet freedom from sorrow and pain going to be. I know that I have to continue to be faithful, even if it’s hard, even if it hurts, there’s far better things ahead. So here’s what the healing process has looked like:
Step one:
The Lord told me to continue to sacrifice. That I didn’t fully sacrifice, and the thing is, I knew I didn’t. I knew I was continuing to hurt myself, and not let the Lord heal me. He told me to stop talking to my ex-boyfriend. Something that I did when I was sad, when I had something exciting to share, when I really wanted to hold onto hope. I was hurting myself, and him, and Him. So I did that. At first it was hard, it again brought tears, and feeling of loneliness, but I did it. With that it made me able to hear the Lords voice so much more clear. This was the crucial gateway to healing.
Step Two:
Letting go of anger. I was so angry. I was angry at myself for hurting myself, I was angry at myself for hurting someone else, I was angry at myself for feeling everything so deeply, I was angry at worldly things that caused problems in that relationship, I was angry that I felt like no one understood what I was going through. I had so much anger. And a week later my team and I were doing a candlelit worship session in our kitchen, and the Lord spoke so clearly to me. He said, “I hope you know I didn’t want you to be in pain, I didn’t cause this.” And about a week later, the Lord brought so much healing to my anger. The Lord revealed something to me through someone that blew my mind. He revealed His goodness, that He stands strong even in the darkest situation. That anger is not a feeling of the Lord, and holding it in only stunts the healing process. Anger doesn’t bring joy. So, I stopped being angry, and started asking for forgiveness. Soon enough, I started to experience a beautiful amount joy. I started smiling more, laughing more, seeking beauty everywhere. And the best thing is, people noticed. My healing was evident, it was not only becoming inward healing, but outward healing as well.
Step three:
Putting my worth into and finding my identity within Him. This brought healing in the sweetest ways. Although I know I’m a daughter of the King, I know I can confidently say that’s what I identify as. I am not just “________’s girlfriend”, I am the Lord’s. I also put my worth confidently in the Lord. I know I’m beautiful, because the Lord says I am, despite the things I’ve been told. Despite feeling lonely, despite the feeling that no one will ever love me again, I know I’m beautiful and I know I’m the Lords. I know I’m a masterpiece and created in His vision.
Step four:
Knowing what it means to fully love, and fully be loved. Don’t get me wrong there was so much goodness during the 3 and 1/2 years of my relationship, I felt loved, I loved, but also there were struggles, myself being a believer and him not. I know now, how truly and deeply the Lord loves, I of course always knew He loved, but as I grew in healing and I realized that I didn’t have to rely on a boy to feel loved. The Lords love is enough. Something so important that I learned is that the man I marry must know the Lord’s love, and he must love the Lord more than he loves me. Love isn’t an emotion. Love is God, and God is love.
“We love because He first loved us.” 1 John 4:19.
The love we give is an imitation of the Lords, without knowing His love, how will we ever love someone with the love they deserve?
Step five:
My story matters and my story is beautiful, and regret is not a feeling that should be felt. I don’t regret anything, it’s not a feeling of the Lord. I have a beautiful story and everything that has happened in my life comes full circle with my testimony of the Lord. he created my path, He creates masterpieces. My relationship has molded me into who I am today, I do not regret it, I am so happy it happened, even if it costed pain, sometimes during, and especially after.
Step six:
Singleness doesn’t mean loneliness, singleness is a crazy good gift. And right now I’m living out this crazy good gift. Singleness has taught me the Lord is my lover. It also taught me that singleness gives you time, time with the Lord, and time to play out the Lords plan for you without having to commit to it with someone else. It’s a gift, one of my favorite gifts the Lord has ever given me. It’s such a good thing.
So overall, there’s been a lot of sorrow and pain, but there’s been a lot of joy and blessings. It’s been a long 4 months, a long 3 countries. I’ve definitely experienced a lot of healing, but that doesn’t mean some days aren’t difficult, it doesn’t mean that some days I still don’t cry, it doesn’t mean that some days I still don’t understand the Lords plan for me during this season, but that’s okay. It’s going to be hard, because heartbreak is hard, heartbreak hurts, it’s not called “heartbreak” just for fun, you are truly breaking, but that’s where the Lord comes in, to mend the break, to heal. I’m still broken, that’s a fact, but the Lord keeps His promises, and He promised to heal me, so I know it will happen.
I did it Lord. I laid it all out. No holding back, fearless. This was me being vulnerable. Sharing one of my hardest struggles so far, not only on the race, but in my lifetime. Healing, it takes a long time, but it’s a beautiful process. One of the main reasons I wrote this blog was to give. To give to future racers who might go through similar things as I have. When I first was going through my breakup I was searching for something like this, unable to find anything. That’s when the Lord placed writing this on my heart. I want other racers and people to know it’s a long process, but it’s worth it, and that they’re not alone.
xoxo -Alina
