I had one of those times this past weekend, where one moment in time seemed to extend for hours, days even. I began to engage in self-pity because, after all, no one else was going to care, I reasoned. But the digger I dug, the more I realized two things: Number one, people do care. They care deeply and compassionately. They care for me, they care about the things that happen to me and they care with the love of Christ that reminds me I am loved and understood.
Number two: I learned that there is a real ache that sometimes needs to be mourned. There are real hurts that we can't just cover up and pretend don't matter. Bandaids might work when you fall off a scooter but they're a sore replacement for a good cry when your heart is hurting.
So, here's my advice from my crappy weekend: Accept love. Accept the hugs and the words of encouragement and affirmation. Accept the smiles and smiley faces in texts. Accept that these are all reflections of the Father's love and that He is never, ever, ever going to leave you. Accept that words do sting but that love is the healing salve of all things. Because remember: You do heal, you were made precious and resilient and stronger than you know. Accept that you are a work in progress. It doesn't matter if you're struggling with an eating disorder or struggling to make a grade on the next exam, doubt and frustration slap us all in the face. But you aren't alone. We may not all understand each other, but the first step is to try. Chances are, you might be like me and find yourself surprised that God has placed some people in your life who do care. He has given you people who do understand. So accept them, and go out and be that person.
Love,
Hannah
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