Hello Bravehearted Beauties! I don’t know who’s here with me today, but I’d like to say a special hello to the ones who responded to my last post. You made raw and vulnerable feel so much less lonely. Thank you. Sometimes I don’t know why I write the things I do. Or why I publish them. Sometimes I want to take them back and just leave all this vulnerability and truth telling to the professionals! To the ones with a real following…the ones who make a real difference. And then I hear from one of you, and I’m reminded all over again that we are the ones who make a difference. You, Bravehearted Beauties, are the ones who make a difference. Your words, your hearts, your stories, your life. All of it matters.

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Today, I hear a new whisper in my heart: nothing is wasted.

I don’t know what the whispers mean when I first hear them. But when the words come with a promise that’s more than what my eyes see and my flesh feels, I know it’s from the heart of God. And when the whisper won’t go away, I sit down to write, on the computer or in my journal, just to see if God has more to say. {I’ve learned that apart from reading His word, I hear best when I write and speak.} So, Bravehearted Beauties, as I sit down to write today, like most days, I have no idea where the writing will take us. But we’ll find out together. And hopefully, there will be a gift in it for both of us! And if the words aren’t speaking to you today, I’m trusting the beauty will!

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God can use the craziest things to speak to our hearts. Today, it was a New York Times video about the importance of wild bees. They’re the primary pollinators in our food system and need a food source of their own to do their God-given job. {Not that the NYT calls it that.} I didn’t expect to read The New York Times today, but I saw the link on a high school friend’s Facebook feed, and the photo caught my attention because it looked just like one I’ve taken here on my farm!

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So I clicked on the link and watched the video. And thats when I heard the whisper: nothing is wasted.

You see, something only God knew, was how I’ve been feeling about wasting my first lavender harvest. After all my dreams of wanting to grow lavender and finally making it happen, I didn’t harvest a single spring. The plants I nourished last summer and protected during a harsh winter produced the most beautiful buds, and I left them hanging. I can’t even use the broken ankle as an excuse. They were ready for harvest in June.

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I was feeling guilt, shame, frustration and maybe even some hidden contempt toward myself over lavender. That may sound silly, but the enemy will capitalize on anything to make us feel less than who we really are. He’ll take what’s meant for delight and enjoyment and twist it into contempt, resentment, shame and guilt.

Because my goal was to harvest the lavender and dry it before the buds began flowering, every day that I saw more flowers made me feel like more of a failure. Until finally, the lavender was beyond harvest, and beyond usefulness in the ways I hoped to use it. As the unharvested lavender lingered, the lies grew louder.

The lies seem harmless at first. I’m a crappy gardener. Who cares? It’s fine if I stink at gardening. But as soon as you agree with one lie, there are dozens of others waiting to take you down further into the pit. I’m wasteful. I’m lazy. I’m not good at this farm life. In fact, I’m not good at anything. Can you feel the slide? The lies keep coming, and so often we keep agreeing without even knowing it. Until we get to the bottom and believe the worst about ourselves. I’m not good enough. I’m worthless. I’m not lovable. Even something as innocuous as a garden blunder can take you down that slippery slope. And until we choose to believe the truth about who we are, the lies keep us buried in places we were never meant to live.

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{This is where I generally pause in my writing and have a little talk with the Lord. I have no idea where I’m going with this, Lord. Is this what You really had in mind when I sat down to write? What does this have to do with your whisper that nothing is wasted? I ask all of this knowing I have the freedom to delete everything I’ve written. But if nothing is wasted, I’m going to trust that all of these words are exactly what someone’s heart needs. I give you my words, Lord.}

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Back to the lavender. As it began to flower, the bees and the butterflies began to feast. What felt like a failure to me became provision for them. Sure, I wanted to gather the buds into beautiful bundles and dry them for bath salts, cocktails, homemade Herbes des Provence, and other dreamy things. But nothing is wasted. My failure became their needed feast. It became the fuel for them to do what God designed them to do! I wonder how many of our supposed failures in life are the fuel for what God created us to do?

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Of all things, God used this New York Times video to whisper these things to my heart today. And not just in relation to lavender and bees, but everything that we’re tempted to deem wasted, failed, pointless or profitless.

Nothing is wasted.

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P.S. Here’s a song for you: Nothing Is Wasted by Jason Gray. {Talk about beauty out of brokenness. He struggles with a stutter when he speaks, yet sings without a hitch!} May these words be like honey to your heart today!

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  • katrina - I so relate!! Was thinking about your pony. If you think you would like a pasture mate for her there is an animal rescue in TN that just went to MS to rescue many animals that were in an awful setting. Among the animals were several donkeys! i thought of you ! one would be precious on your farm.ReplyCancel

  • Sherry - Beautiful words and wisdom. Every time I read your posts they always speak to me and are just what I need to hear even when I didn’t know what I needed. And your photos are awesome too! Thank you and God bless you.ReplyCancel

  • Jennifer - Linsey…you are so insightful. I love reading your words. This post touched my heart, just like all your entries do. I’ve said this before and I will say it again. You have a gift! Please don’t ever stop talking to all of us out here. I feel guilt and simply cringe when I read you have doubts regarding whether or not anyone is following or listening to your heartfelt words. Yes, there are. Most definitely. I haven’t yet had a chance to read your last entry, but I will soon. I can say for myself that I am running through life most of the time. Working full time, a daughter with school, piano, Girl Scouts, and a Wizard of Oz play. When I do have some quiet time, you are my go-to internet place. Your words are beautiful and your pictures are too. Im also guilty of not wanting to be vulnerable and have everyone read my response, and other times I just can’t find the right words. But please know I love reading your words. Thank you for being you.ReplyCancel

  • Lorri - Tell you what . . . if this were me, I’d be so delighted with all the bees and butterflies in the lavender that I’d resolve to plant it every year (or is it perennial?) and just leave it for them.

    Okay, I’d harvest a little bit.

    But I’d rather sit and watch them play in the lavender. Besides, you can’t disappoint them next year now that they know where the lavender is!ReplyCancel

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Hello Beauties! How is your brave heart on this first day of August? Are you feeling brave…or do you need a boost? Are you ready for a new month…or wishing you could have the last one back? Are you preparing for school…or prepping for one last summer adventure? Are you able to see the beauty in your current season…or longing for a way out?

Maybe you fall somewhere in between all those questions. Sometimes we don’t know where our heart stands until we take the time to be still. If only we’d stop running, distracting, preventing and controlling. I don’t wish any of you a broken ankle, but I do wish you a season of stillness. And the courage to embrace it. This is where a Bravehearted Beauty gains her strength. {Isaiah 30:15}

As I consider the last few weeks, here’s what I know: I am broken. And I mean that in the best possible way. I’m in a low place, but I’m not afraid of it…and miraculously not depressed by it. {Thank you, LORD!} My ultimate low isn’t a broken ankle. It just happens to be the thing that has brought me into a place of deeper surrender. And the thing that makes it hard to run away and pursue my own agenda. {Ah, the gift of immobility!} I knew right away this season would be about so much more than a broken bone, because God is always doing a deeper thing.

Yes, I’m in a low place, but I feel like I can finally see the bottom. And surprisingly, it looks a lot like this photo I captured on the Amalfi Coast. {Take a closer look at the top of this post.} Isn’t it beautiful? Instead of the utter darkness we often fear we’ll find at the bottom, I see sparkles of light and flashes of hope. In the shadows of hard and rocky places, I see new life and beauty. There is beauty at the bottom. So I allow myself to go low with the One who will lift me back up to the heights…with treasures that can only be found at the bottom.

There are no doubt glory stories to be told from the low places in our lives. I can’t wait to tell a more finished story from the heights, but there’s unfathomable glory being produced right here. Great faith is formed in the pit. True beauty is found in brokenness. I love sharing beauty, hopefully inspiring you to hunt for it in your own broken places. And while I may not share all the details of my brokenness here on the internet, I hope to share enough to let you know you’re not alone. Feeling all alone in the pit is the worst feeling in the world. {And it’s the place the enemy wants to keep you…believing his lie that you’re all alone.}

Bravehearted Beauties, you are not alone. {Deuteronomy 31:8 is one of many places of promise.}

You are BRAVE in this place. Even if your heart feels fragile in the moment, you are brave for facing your pain. Brave isn’t strong and unbreakable. Brave is having the courage to let your heart break. Brave is believing in a new thing when you can’t yet see it. Brave is daring to hope. Brave is choosing faith over fear. Brave is a lot of things that strong isn’t. You don’t have to be strong today. Just brave…even in your most fragile, painful place.

Pain is an unwanted, yet gifted teacher. I’ve shared some lessons learned in pain here and some perspective on pain’s purpose and power here. {“Without your wounds, where would your power be?”But today, God’s whisper to my heart is to praise Him in the pain.

One little word makes all the difference. God isn’t asking us to praise Him for the pain, but to praise Him in the pain. {1 Thessalonians 5:18} How on earth can we praise Him in the pain? Honestly, I can’t unless I choose to believe these words are true:

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” ISAIAH 43:19

“Behold, I am making all things new!” REVELATION 21:5

“If you’ll hold on to me for dear life,” says God“I’ll get you out of any trouble. I’ll give you the best of care if you’ll only get to know and trust me. Call me and I’ll answer, be at your side in bad times; I’ll rescue you, then throw you a party.” PSALM 91:14-15 

In this low place, I’m choosing to take God at His word and thank Him for what He says He’s doing, even when what I’m experiencing doesn’t yet feel like a rescue or a new thing. That’s what faith is…believing what we cannot see.

The purest praise flows out of faith. 

When God says He will rescue me, I choose to believe my rescue is already happening, even when circumstances make it look like I’m a little lower in the pit. I dare to picture the rescue operation, then get excited about the party, even when it doesn’t look like I have much to celebrate in the moment. And when my imagination fails me, which it often does, I ask God to give me a picture. {His Word is full of pictures.}

And finally I thank Him. Not for the pain, but for the promises. This is what it looks like to praise God in the pain.

I haven’t always been this way. I’m growing this way. And like it or not, pain has been my greatest teacher. But pain isn’t a forever place. It’s the place where our heart is broken so that it can be healed. It’s the place of surrender so that we can be saved. Pain is a low place with a high calling. That’s the crazy paradox of faith. The way down is the way up. It makes no sense. But life doesn’t make sense…even to a high minded intellectual/control freak who tries to make sense out of everything. There’s HOPE for her. There’s FAITH for her. There’s a RESCUE for her.

And then…there’s a party! Start dreaming about your dress and your guest list, Bravehearted Beauties! I can already picture the celebration on the other side of this present pain. Would you dare to believe this promise is true for you, too?

And you know what else? It’s almost too much to believe. As if a rescue mission and a party weren’t enough, here’s what else God is going to do: He’s going to turn this pit into a deep well. Because that’s what He does. He makes all things new. He doesn’t waste your pain; He redeems it. He doesn’t just airlift you out of the pit and leave a gaping hole; He turns it into a place of power and purpose. He doesn’t ignore your past; He uses all of it for good.

As one saint said, “This is what the past is for! Every experience God gives us…is the perfect preparation for the future that only He can see.” {Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place.} Talk about a woman who knew the pit! Corrie ten Boom survived Nazi concentration camp, and yet she could say with confidence, “There is no pit so deep that God’s love is not deeper still.” 

Amen. Here’s to surrendering to the depths. And to the love that transforms our pit into a deep well. Here’s to the beauty found in brokenness.

Love to you with all of my brave and beautiful heart,

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  • Inga - Thanks for this post! You should write a book….
    I don’t have the words to explain how your blog has hit home for me so many times….
    Hope you are healing well!ReplyCancel

    • Bravehearted Beauty - Inga, what an encouragement you are to me. God continues to nudge me in the direction of writing a book. I just get so easily overwhelmed and have no clue where to start or what to write. But someday…I think a book will come. I’m so thankful to know that in my weakness, God uses my words to speak to your heart.ReplyCancel

  • emi - Dear Linsey, Wow, God continues to use your lessons to teach/remind me of wholeness. Beauty in brokenness/pain. This summer has brought me also to a new introspect. I believe that is one reason you were brought into my life through your blog. Even though i am 10 years older than you and our life experiences are not the exact same, God is working in your life similar to what He is working in my life. (I am not suffering from a broken ankle, but He is working in the depth of my heart.) These last few weeks i have been in a place of “stillness” to recognize my brokeness that needed/needs healing. Thank you for your obedience to write to edify His body. And yes to the newness He is making…especially for those who follow. Love to you sister at the Ten 10 Farm.ReplyCancel

    • Bravehearted Beauty - Thanks for the love, Emi! I’m so thankful God brought me into your life and brought YOU to my farm for beauty hunting. When God works at the depths, whether through a broken ankle or another broken place, it hurts. And it’s HARD. But if we can just BELIEVE that He’s in it WITH us…that we are not alone. It makes all the difference. Speaking God’s love and nearness over your heart today, dear one.ReplyCancel

  • Julie - Linsey – THIS. This is my favorite of all your posts. It spoke to me in such a profound way. Thank you for letting the Lord speak through you and for sharing what He is showing you. To picture beauty at “the bottom” is never something I have thought of, but with the Lord is so true. His light and hope reaching to us in reflections, in that place. I hope I can always picture that photo you took on the Amalfi Coast. Wow. Bless you, friend. Xo, ~julieReplyCancel

  • Nothing Is Wasted » Bravehearted Beauty - […] here with me today, but I’d like to say a special hello to the ones who responded to my last post. You made raw and vulnerable feel so much less lonely. Thank you. Sometimes I don’t know why […]ReplyCancel

  • Jennifer - Great read, Linsey. Always so much to absorb and think about. Thanks again for sharing your sweet heart, amazing faithfulness, and wonderful insight. Have a blessed day. Hope your ankle is getting better. Take care.ReplyCancel

Hello Beauties! How are YOU today? I wish you could sit right here and tell me.

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This chair looks so much better with a friend sitting in it!

I’ve gotten a little bored with my spot on the couch, so I reached for my camera today. Anyone who takes this many photos from her couch is obviously a little mobility challenged. {And bored!} I may not have much of an outdoor view from here, but there’s still some beauty amidst the broken!

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These flowers from a friend changed my view for the better!

This is one of the few places in our house that doesn’t have a pasture view. To keep things interesting, I change directions a few times a day. How’s that for exciting?!!? Soon, I may need a friend to come over and flip and fluff all these pillows…just to make it feel fresh again. And thank goodness for slipcovers! I’m already dreaming of washing all these slips when my ankle heals. {The things a recovering perfectionist dreams about! Ha!}

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I rarely blog about house things anymore, but for anyone wants to know: Quatrine is my favorite slipcovered furniture shop. My house is filled with their furniture…purchased little by little over time. Their custom welt and skirt details make their pieces feel extra special. It’s pricey, but they have great sales and their stuff lasts. This couch is nearly 17 years old! Here’s a cleaner view:

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So now that you’ve gotten a little peek at my spot on the couch, I know you’re dying to see the clutter on my coffee table! These are the things that are helping me in my healing. And thanks to my sweet family and friends, what’s on the table changes up depending on what people bring me while I just sit here, still as a board. {I was going to say, “still as a mouse,” but they aren’t so still…just quiet.}

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Aside from the broken ankle, my spot is pretty awesome! 

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And because my family knows I can’t live without it, here’s some of the beauty they’ve brought in from around the farm: fresh herbs, Limelight hydrangeas and a surprise passion flower growing wildly in the brush.

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So there you have it: a little tour of my healing spot on the couch in a room without much of a view, but plenty of goodness. It’s not easy to sit here all day. And even harder knowing it won’t end for awhile, but the truth is, I have so many reasons to give thanks…and so many moments of beauty in the brokenness.

With a thankful heart,

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P.S. If I’m going to sit still for so long, you can bet I’m going to do a little research and figure out if there’s anything I can do to help the healing process. “How To Speed Fracture Healing” is the article I liked best…maybe because it makes me feel like there’s something I can do while sitting here. I may not eat 6,000 calories while sitting on a couch all day, but I’m all in with the supplements, my husband’s favorite sports injury cream and several hours a day of micro-current therapy. {My husband uses this therapy in his sports injury practice; we’ll see if it speeds bone healing.}

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  • Gracia @ Gracious Offering - Linsey, looks like you are reading some good books and getting a lot of TLC from your family. Hard to know why God slows us down some times but He always has a purpose for us. May you continue to find beauty and joy in each day as you heal. Praying for you. Warmly, GraciaReplyCancel

  • Suzanne - Linsey- so sorry for your broken ankle! I will be praying for your quick recovery! Blessings! SuzanneReplyCancel

  • Kathy - I think I may be experiencing some of the same things right now. I’ve been diagnosed with Lyme and my energy has left me, which means I spend my days in bed focusing on getting better, leaving my ‘normal’ life in God’s hands, and trying to allow myself help from wonderful friends reaching out to me. Normally I am the one taking care of others! This is SO frustrating to me! However, this time is an opportunity to evaluate my ‘normal’ life and ask God to show me what changes need to be made.ReplyCancel

  • tara - so sorry to hear about your broken ankle….praying for perfect healing.

    saw your supplements…i use designs for health..LOVE them!ReplyCancel

How cute are these cousins?!?!

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This is more like it…

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always in motion!

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Surely farms were made for little boys!

These three cuties slowed down just long enough to give the sweetest hugs and kisses several times a day while I laid on the couch with a newly broken ankle. One put a bandaid on me, and another said, “Want me to snuggle you a little bit?” He leaned in close, smelling like the barn, and rubbed my head with his dirty little hands. Made my day!

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Sadly, we had to cut our visit short. An immobile auntie who can’t risk getting bumped or knocked doesn’t make the best hostess for toddler boys…or the best photographer. I didn’t get to take a single shot while they were here. But then again, the sweetest moments weren’t ones I could’ve photographed anyway.

Real life with real people isn’t what you see in social media. It’s all kinds of messy and imperfect. It’s full of sweetness and chaos. It’s broken bones and frustrations and meltdowns…right alongside hugs and kisses and snuggles. And when you realize these are the people who know your crazy and will drive 13 hours to be with you in your crazy…that’s real love. I can’t think of anything sweeter.

With a full heart and an aching ankle,

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P.S. I can’t help but wonder if part of my recovery during this whole ankle break ordeal has something to do with not being able to whip my house into shape after every mess. In fact, I can’t even see most of the mess. I spend the entire day in one spot and couldn’t clean a thing even if I wanted to! Here’s all I know for sure: God is healing more than a broken bone. He’s always doing a deeper thing that what we can see!

 

 

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  • Jennifer - So sorry to hear you broke your ankle. I hope it heals quickly for you, but until then, rest and enjoy the beautiful view your farm provides. Take care.ReplyCancel

  • Kathy - I think I may be experiencing some of the same things right now. I’ve been diagnosed with Lyme and my energy has left me, which means I spend my days in bed focusing on getting better, leaving my ‘normal’ life in God’s hands, and trying to allow myself help from wonderful friends reaching out to me. Normally I am the one taking care of others! This is SO frustrating to me! However, this time is an opportunity to evaluate my ‘normal’ life and ask God to show me what changes need to be made.ReplyCancel

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.

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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.

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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:

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

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  • Patti - I’m so sorry about your broken ankle. I hope it heals quickly. “All I have to do is say yes to healing and be still enough to let it happen” really spoke to me. I don’t know why I find it difficult to say yes. Thank you for sharing!ReplyCancel

  • Marjorie - Dear Linsey,

    I am so sorry to hear about your mishap. I too have had many mishaps and surgeries with broken bones, but it has taught me a lesson to be grateful for all the good things I do have in life. You are young and strong and you will heal. There is some message in this for you.

    Take care and wishing you a speedy recovery.

    Fondly, MargieReplyCancel

  • Marissa - Oh my Linsey, you poor dear!! Praying for peace, comfort and complete healing!ReplyCancel

  • Kelly - Linsey so sorry for broken ankle and pray for healing for you. I’m feeling broken right now also but for different reasons. My mom has lung cancer and I’m walking with her through it and now have just found out my beautiful daughter in law has cancer. She also has a 6month old baby she will have to be separated from her while she goes through treatment. So by sharing your story and reminding me of God word you have given me beauty in my brokenness!!! Thank you for being Gods Hands and feet by sharing your brokenness!
    Oh how we are loved by our precious King!!!ReplyCancel

  • Cousins On The Farm » Bravehearted Beauty - […] enough to give the sweetest hugs and kisses several times a day while I laid on the couch with a newly broken ankle. One put a bandaid on me, and another said, “Want me to snuggle you a little bit?” He […]ReplyCancel

  • A Low Place With A High Calling » Bravehearted Beauty - […] it…and miraculously not depressed by it. {Thank you, LORD!} My ultimate low isn’t a broken ankle. It just happens to be the thing that has brought me into a place of deeper surrender. And the […]ReplyCancel

  • Nothing Is Wasted » Bravehearted Beauty - […] a harsh winter produced the most beautiful buds, and I left them hanging. I can’t even use the broken ankle as an excuse. They were ready for harvest in […]ReplyCancel

  • Presence Over Productivity » Bravehearted Beauty - […] Hello Beauties! So much for getting back to the video last week! At this point, I don’t even know what I was planning to say. It changes day to day. Some days I feel chatty and ready to spill my heart out…other days, I just feel quiet. Over the last seven weeks, I’ve felt mostly quiet. It’s been a slow season, a deep healing season, a tear-filled season, a lonely season…and as I suspected, it’s been about a whole lot more than the healing of a broken bone. […]ReplyCancel

  • Pushing Through The Pain To Get To The Healing » Bravehearted Beauty - […] 11 weeks into this broken ankle recovery and am finally walking with only a small brace. I look almost normal, but the pain, […]ReplyCancel

  • Christmas Is For Misfits » Bravehearted Beauty - […] night, I sat on my yoga mat for the first time since breaking my ankle five months ago. I took my place in a cozy, crowded room full of women who appeared peaceful and […]ReplyCancel

  • What We Really Need In The New Year » Bravehearted Beauty - […] for my body {a broken ankle and the unrelated trauma it unearthed took a […]ReplyCancel

  • Winter Wonderland On The Farm » Bravehearted Beauty - […] a little beauty from the first half of the day. I haven’t taken this many photos since I broke my ankle in July. It felt really good to wield my sword and do some beauty […]ReplyCancel

  • The Beauty of Blackberry Farm + Honoring Sam Beall » Bravehearted Beauty - […] a glorious sunny day in Middle Tennessee {finally!}, and I’m eager to get outside and try my once broken ankle at a gentle hike in the woods. But before I do, I want to share some beauty that I’ve been […]ReplyCancel