A Standard of Grace not Perfection

I have gratitude today. I try to have it everyday, but let's be honest, it can be damn hard when you're in the throes of a major depression so sometimes I just forget. I find writing a gratitude list can help (to be fair I often count my blessings in my mind rather than a piece of paper, which might not be as effective, but it certainly still does something). Today I am thankful to and for Sarah Frick. Despite the fact that we have only met twice (through her lovely husband John who often comes down to Bermuda for deep sea fishing) and the wide expanse of the Atlantic Ocean separates us, I consider her a soul sister. The reason I do is because I have been deeply inspired by Sarah's faith, hope and 'grace' over the last couple of years. Sarah writes a blog called Love Letters to Grace, which began following the loss of her days-old daughter Clara Grace. Sarah has chronicled her life since that time in the most beautiful, devoted way, by sharing those feelings with the world, even when they're messy, painful and hard. But there is so much hope in what she shares. She always had an unwavering faith that she would have another child and she and John have recently been blessed with a beautiful boy.

Via her blog Sarah introduced me to an incredible book called 'Carry on Warrior, Thoughts on Life Unarmed' by Glennon Doyle Melton (the founder of Momastery). Just like Sarah, Glennon is a fierce, strong, lioness of a woman who bares her soul in the most vulnerable way. She doesn't shy away from the difficulties or truth of addiction, alcoholism, adoption and abortion (I'm noticing some As here - it's like they're all good grades in class). Glennon's book made me laugh, made me cry and helped me to heal, just like Sarah's words do too. And you know what I figured out after I read it? These last few weeks I have been a warrior who has had to surrender. Not in a weak or pitiful way, but I've had to surrender to the idea that I can take care of myself all on my own. I have struggled for so long to continue on without asking for help because I'm too embarrassed to admit my own weakness. My psychologist said to me a few weeks ago "You're going to die of embarrassment, because you need help, yet you have no idea how to ask for it." So I reached out for help and fellow warriors, who I like to call friends and family, rallied around me and carried me when I couldn't walk on my own. I have tried to be as honest as my limited bravery allows me to on this blog, but I still know there are many things I hold back, because I worry about the responses of readers. Glennon's father said to her, "Don't you think there are some things you should take to the grave?" She responded saying, "That sounds horrible to me. I don't want to take anything to the grave. I want to die used up and emptied out. I don't want to carry around anything that I don't have to. I want to travel light." One day, Glennon, I'll be there too. 


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