A Different Kind of Broken

Oh, Bravehearted Beauties, I feel like a BROKEN MESS! Sometimes it’s hard to show up this way…again. But here are three good reasons to be here today: One, I miss you! Two, I think the messy middle of our stories are as powerful as the redeemed endings. If we only share the polished parts, we’re doing each other a huge disservice. And three, writing is like breathing for me. It’s healing and life-giving and shines a light into dark places. So here I am, believing there will be goodness for all of us in this brave and beautiful space we share.

PINIT

I’m no stranger to brokenness…or to finding beauty in the midst of it. In fact, it’s the brokenness in life that drives me to hunt for beauty. Finding beauty in brokenness has emerged as the theme of my life, especially since our big move. I pick up my camera like a sword on a regular basis and fight to see beauty in every broken, barren place. And just as I thought was getting pretty good at it, I’ve tumbled into a whole new kind of brokenness: a broken bone.

The short and crazy of it is that I jumped off a fast-moving horse and rolled my ankle right down the slope of our pasture. OUCH!  Who jumps off a cantering horse? Maybe someone whose bravery exceeds her skill. We were cantering, I was loving it, she started bucking, and I wanted off. She had a mind of her own in that moment, so I decided I would, too.

I knew when I landed that it hurt. But would you believe I walked Lucy over to the pond, chatted with her owner {who was riding with me,} then hopped back onto the saddle {using my broken ankle to mount}, and rode back to the barn. Took the saddle off {while shaking inside}, washed her down and turned her back out into the pasture. That’s when it hit me: we asked Lucy to work in her playground. No spirited young girl wants to work in a playground! I’d be defiant, too!

On top of everything else, this was my first time in an English saddle. Everything about it was different…the saddle, the alignment, how to hold the reigns. I don’t pretend to be a highly skilled rider, but Western comes naturally to me. I think the Texas girl in me always liked the cowgirl approach to horses. It feels a little more wild and free. Looking back, I should’ve started in a flat arena with a lead rope, but the Bravehearted Beauty in me just wanted to ride. And until the fall, it was pure joy!

This is how I feel inside when I’m on a horse: happy.

PINIT

When I was about ten years old, I rode a horse for the first time. He was young and newly broken. I didn’t feel an ounce of fear; only desire. But halfway through our trail ride, that young horse freaked out at the idea of crossing a creek and bucked high up on his hind legs. I felt a rush of fear and adrenaline, but held on tight, determined to stay on no matter what.

That was me as a little girl. Brave, yes. And I love that part of me. But there was also a scared little girl who didn’t know how to keep herself safe, so she held on tight with every muscle in her tense little body and worked hard to hide the fear. So as I’ve asked God about why I jumped off this time, all I can say for now is that it was part of feeling like I had a choice. This time, I was brave in a different way. I was brave enough to choose my own way out of something that didn’t feel safe for me…even if it meant risking physical pain. Something about that feels more powerful even if it is a little crazy.

Once I came in from the barn and allowed myself to feel the pain in my ankle, the dam broke. “I don’t want to be more broken! I’m tired of being broken!” Followed by sobs and wails and flashes of memories that seemed entirely unrelated…things I didn’t even know I remembered. But the body remembers. And pain has the potential to wake up those forgotten, hidden places. And while that might sound scary to those who’ve tried to forget, it’s actually a gift that opens doors to healing and freedom.

So this is the beauty in my brokenness: where there is pain, there is an opportunity for healing. And just as a bone will heal, so will the heart and mind and spirit. All I have to do is say yes to healing and be still enough to let it happen.

Feels like a good time to remember these words:

PINIT

Still as can be for as many weeks as it takes,