Skip to main content

Five Minute Friday: Story

My story is what made me want to start blogging. The story of how my heart was broken by one of the people I trusted most in this world. It's hard to tell our stories - we want to help people but there's the fear of criticism or advice that seems but too easy to give but hard to put into practice.

I want my blog to help people. I want it to shave time off of someone else's time to heal a broken heart. I want it to be an inspiration to others, whether they are on their own for the first time or trying to remember what it's like to be on their own after years of being part of a couple.

I haven't always been good at telling my story. I've been afraid to write about the bad days, afraid to come off as a whiner or to be repetitive with the "debbie downer" posts. But I need to push through and tell my story because I feel like it is what I am supposed to do. That in my telling my story, I will find the healing that I wish for so much.

Please know today that if your story includes a broken heart, there are better days ahead. Not every day will be good, but there will be better days. Don't let anyone else tell you how to recover, especially not how fast you should recover. Turn that hurt over to God, know that He has you in the palm of His hand and He will find a way to turn this hurt part of your story into the good part of your story.

My story won't end with this broken heart and neither will yours.

Comments

  1. Girl, tell your story. Heal your heart. You deserve it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Dear Andrea
    I am so glad that you give the advice that we should not lend our ears who wants to tell us how much time we need to recover! That is mean.
    Blessings XX
    Mia

    ReplyDelete
  3. I needed this reminder tonight, bless you.

    ReplyDelete
  4. "My story won't end with this broken heart and neither will yours." What a great encouragement. There are days when the ache is so bad that I cannot envision what is beyond the brokenness. I have seen my story continue past a broken heart many times, and yet the brokenness of the moment never seems to reach back to the lessons learned--especially the lesson of "this is not the end." There is more to the story. Good words.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Five Minute Friday: Time

Five Minute Friday is a writing event that has writers spending five minutes writing on the same topic and then sharing them at http://katemotaung.com/five-minute-friday/ . This week's word is Time. Sometimes time feels like this, like we are in it. Standing inside it, watching life pass by. It is so easy to get stuck in a time - in our pain, in our hurt. We hear the ache tick away in our head like a giant clock. Time, instead, is a gift. More time with family, more time to accomplish goals, more time to see the world. When you are hurting, it seems like time takes forever. One day turns into another day, turns into another day. When we hate a job, the five days of time that make up a work week seem to go on forever. But those five days are also a gift. Because these days, a job is not a guarantee. I want to see time as gift, not as a chore. I want to be on the other side of it, wishing there was more of it. Making the most of every hour, minute, and second instead of

Five Minute Friday: Roots

Lisa-Jo Baker (lisajobaker.com) hosts a weekly event on her blog called "Five Minute Friday". The rules are 1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking. 2. Link back here and invite others to join in. 3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.. So here's my first try at this. Today's topic was Roots. Roots – I think about my grandparents who lived on a farm until my grandfather’s diabetes worsened and they moved to a town with a hospital nearby. My father still says he wished he could have kept that farm. I think of my grandmother who was a widow for 20 years. Every year she would stand over my PaPa’s grave, wishing she was with him. I think of my parents, a product of those grandparents, how hard my father worked to put 2 girls through

Five Minute Friday: Dwell

Five Minute Friday is a writing event that has writers spending five minutes writing on the same topic and then sharing them at http://katemotaung.com/five-minute-friday/ . This week's word is Dwell. I have thought about this word a lot - where should I dwell. After my divorce, I had a big decision to make - did I buy X's half of the house and continue to dwell where I had for the past 15 years or did I sell and move to a new dwelling. After crunching numbers and weighing my options, I decide to stay in the house we had bought together. Because, when it came right down to it, I loved my house. I felt safe there. I try not to dwell on the sadness that happened in this place but instead try to dwell on making it my own. I have painted rooms in colors X would have never agreed upon, I have bought artwork that he would never have hung. I want to dwell in a place that reflects who I am. When the yard is full of weeds and the basement full of water, I long to dwell in