I thought I was Brave....

Today I sat for an hour in a physical therapy room watching brave everyday people learning to sit, stand and walk.  Tears rolled down my cheeks the whole time.  The young boy with the scar up the back of his head walking in large circles around the room being cheered on every lap as he passed me.  Other people just trying to be able to move their hands.  Precious children of God all struggling to do things that we take for granted every day.  Sometimes I feel sorry for myself, sometimes I have a pity party but this bravery and strength, this determination that I see in these hearts makes me feel ridiculous, ashamed really.  It could be so much worse.  Yes, my heart is broke.  Some of us are broke on the inside and some on the outside.  I think my broken heart will heal much easier than most of the men, women and children I see doing physical therapy.  Every time my Dad stands up, the effort looks like he is squatting five hundred pounds.  He hits the top and we smile and celebrate the victory.  The inner cheerleader in me wants to run around the room cheering each person on, telling them how brave and daring they are, telling them how proud they should be of themselves(I don't do this because I am sure it might embarrass them).  They are each hero's, in their own ways.  They are those who won't be broken by their circumstances. 

Then there is the M.D.Anderson Hospital.  Waiting rooms full of people fighting for their lives,  They epitomize "Rocky" the fighter as they are pumped full of horrifying medicines, beaten down by the after effects of chemo and then get right back up and keep fighting.  Fighting for life, fighting for hope, fighting for their loved ones.  My stepmother amazes me as we travel from her treatments to my Dad's treatments she never complains.  SHE NEVER COMPLAINS. We run through list of things we are thankful for as we drive, we stay positive, we laugh and I cry.  All day long tears leak out of my eyes and down my cheeks because I love these people, this family and because I had forgot how good life is even when it's bad.   It can be beautiful to struggle together, to kiss the top of my Dad's head, to sit and play games while poison is dripping into Gwen's body, to see grown men stand for the first time, to celebrate every tiny little thing with a different perspective.  Is it hard? YES but their is beauty in the hard things, there is hope in every moment, there is victory in the smallest of accomplishments and there is love, there is always love. 

I thought I was brave and maybe I was but this is true bravery, true strength.  So today I repented for my pity parties, uninvited all the guest in my head, set my heart right before the Lord and decided I could be braver, I could see more beauty and less of the ugly.  My heart is broken but only a part of it and just like all these brave, determined people I am just going to keep exercising it until it is strong again.  I don't think I can quit crying but maybe that can be beautiful too, just letting people see the inside as it leaks out your eyes is an act of honesty and beauty.  Feelings aren't bad, crying doesn't make you weak it makes you real.  So I cry for happy things and I cry for sad things, basically I cry when I am happy and when I am sad and everywhere in between.  Eventually that will stop as I exercise my heart more and more, the sad will get less and less. 

I know God is fixing my broken heart, showing me new things, near to me, teaching me how to move to a whole new level of brave. I get to see "that brave" in others every day.   Change, He changed the world and He is the one who will change my heart.  Thankful for the opportunity to be here, in this moment, in this season, to know wholeheartedly that I am surrounded by bravery and beauty and to allow it to help heal my broken heart.  This unexpected journey is going to be beautiful and I am going to lean into it wholeheartedly.  I won't be broken by circumstances as a matter of fact I think I will just grow stronger. I think it's going to be exciting to see where it all goes from here.  Not quite what I had planned but who's life really ever goes as planned?  The only one that really knows is God He sees the beginning and the end all at the same time....He is the master planner, my plans were just that...mine.  Now, it's His turn.