Why Not

by marthakate

I’ve been staring at the blank screen for awhile now praying that some thought that I have jumbled in my head would come to fruition. I never meant to write a blog. I never meant to share my story. I never meant for people to relate. I was just one girl with a story, my story. And I decided that my story might be worth telling. Telling your story for the first time is like jumping into freezing cold water on a scalding summer night. You are scared to death to jump but once your body hits the cool refreshing water you realize that jumping was the best idea. Not only do you feel refreshed, but you also feel invigorated. You know that it was the right decision to jump and that the next time you are faced with the option you will be sprinting towards the cool pool of refreshing water.

When I first told my story I knew I had to do. I had to do it to break down the walls that I was this “Little Miss Perfect”. I wanted to show others that grace is life changing and healing is real. I shared not only because I wanted to but because I had to. As I began to open up, I received message after message saying that someone else related to my story and they appreciated me sharing. It was not just kind, it was humbling to know that my simple story had a bigger purpose.

As I continued to share my journey I was given opportunity after opportunity to talk about my life and the experiences that led to making me who I am. As life gets busy and sometimes hard I find myself looking at this blog and wondering should I still keep writing? Does this matter? Am I wasting my time? But in my heart I know I am not and that I absolutely have to keep working.

So why do I do it? Why do I continue to be vulnerable, to pour my hear out, to share the messiness of my life? Why do on some of my worst days I sit down and type out the messiness? I do it, because I believe our stories matter. I believe the truth and the realness of our life stories is vital to share. I believe that as one of my favorite authors says, that when we share the brokenness and beauty of our lives that the gospel truly comes to life. The gospel becomes a real life story of redemption and not just abstraction. The other night someone asked me about my story and I hesitated. We were standing face to face and for a moment I was scared. It is a million times easier to share a story with people you don’t know versus the one person you are staring straight at. But then I took a deep breath and I told my story, I told my story of grace. I told it because my story matters and so does yours. Every time we are brave and choose to be vocal instead of silent about our stories we give people the opportunity to see grace at work.

The truth is my story is one of many. However, there is no one else who can tell my story and no one else who can tell yours. So on the days that I feel like listening to the lies and the shame I decide instead to tell my story. I choose to tell my story of the grace that changed my life. It’s sometimes easier to believe the lies, it’s often times what we feel is safe and what we know best. It is harder to believe the truth, it is harder to believe grace is bigger, but each time I have an opportunity to tell the story of grace it becomes not only more true but also a little sweeter. So why not share your story…

Much love,

19Aug2013

JLO, Smashing Mugs, and Changing the Story

by marthakate

Truth be told, I like for other people to think that I am basically JLo in the Wedding Planner. In fact, when I mention that I am a Wedding Planner/Coordinator I sometimes throw that little joke in there and other times people just assume that is my life. Don’t get me wrong I love my job but it is a whole lot less glamour and glitter filled that JLo’s in that movie. However, the huge drama factor is still there. I get to deal with people who are focused on the biggest day of their life, which is exciting, happy, joyous and ah yes stressful. Insert the added drama. However, whether people’s dream day goes off without a hitch or whether there are many hitches (one’s they will never know about it, insert my job here) I get to witness the beginning of two lives, two stories coming together.

I have always been captivated by people’s stories. It is one of the many reasons I was an English major. It is probably also one of the reasons I picked my job. I LOVE to hear people’s stories. I love to read people’s stories. I love to listen to them. I love to watch them. I love to hear about them in any way shape, or form. However, oftentimes I feel like I am living the same story. I don’t want to change my story because that is too painful. It is too difficult. It is too much. But I have to and so do you.

When I started recovery nearly a year and half ago i had a decision to make. I could either start rewriting my story or keep living the same one. I could either hold tightly to the cliff or jump into the clear blue water. I of course chose to jump. More times than others I have had to remind myself why I made the decision I did, why I chose the road less traveled. If I am being honest this road has been hard. It been messy. It has been broken but it has been worth it. I could keep living the lies or I could walk in truth, truth that set me free.

There are certain lies that Ed used to tell me minute to minute about how I looked and the way I should feel about myself. Many of them came from experiences with family, boyfriends, friends and so on. Built up, these lies began to tell a story of who I was and what my worth was in. On my worst days, I sometimes think about those lies and start to wonder if they are still true (as if they EVER were!!). And I have to stop and remind myself that I get an opportunity to change the story of who I am, of what my worth is in and in what I am all about. That decision to change the story came when I decided to choose recovery.

Earlier this summer I smashed a mug. It was a mug made for me by a former boy. It was special to our relationship and I used to drink coffee out of it every morning. When that relationship ended my sweet mother hid the mug so I wouldn’t have to see it. Earlier this summer she found it while she was cleaning. I walked into the kitchen and saw the mug on the table and felt a lump in my throat. She explained she was going to pitch it but didn’t want to, she wanted me to do whatever I wanted it. I made a joke about smashing it and my brother concluded that would be a wonderful idea. So we went to the backyard and with the mug safely contained in a Ziploc bag, I began to smash it to pieces with a hammer. My loving brother, knowing this was a big step, filmed it and took pictures as we both laughed and the mug became unrecognizable in tiny pieces. Then I promptly threw the mug in the garbage, happy with my smashing results. Friends, smashing that mug was once of the best decisions I have ever made, because smashing it meant ending that story and starting a new one.

The fact of the matter is it was just a mug, an inanimate object, and I could have easily thrown it away without the smashing. However, by smashing it, I decided to smash all the bad memories of that relationship. I smashed all the insecurities and lack of self-worth I felt during it. I smashed the way I was treated. I smashed the idea of ever doing it to myself again. In essence, that smashing represented me changing the story for myself. By symbolically smashing that mug I smashed the idea of ever being treated that way again in a relationship and I smashed my old story and decided to create a new one. I changed the story.

Sometimes changing the story can be easier than others. For me changing the story means changing a story that I lived for over a decade. Just like choosing recovery daily, it is daily choosing everyday to change the story and live a new one. It means being brave and sharing my mess. It means not having it all together. It means asking for help. It means leaving perfection and learning grace.

Friend, you can make the one of the best decision you will ever make, by changing your story (of hurt, pain, trauma) whatever it is. You can make the decision to smash your old story and start a new one. It takes strength, bravery, and vulnerability but then again every good and beautiful story has all of those. It is not safe but it is worth it. And may you ALWAYS REMEMBER…

YOU are LOVED and YOU are WORTH it!!
<3MK

Finding the Real MK

The best friends a girl could have. #beyondblessed

As I was setting up my new room I came across some old photos of myself and by old photos I mean ones taken nearly a year ago. I took a moment and I starred at the girl in the photo and I didn’t recognize her. Sure she looked healthy. She looked happy. She was beautiful. She looked like me, but was she really me? I knew within an instant that she wasn’t…

One of the most important aspects of my recovery has been discovering who MK is. What does MK like? What does she dislike? What is she about? What does she want for her life? However, at the point I was at in my recovery a year ago I wasn’t strong enough to stick to many of those things. I wasn’t ready to be me…I still wanted to be the people-pleaser I was during my time with Ed. So I became someone I wasn’t. It was no one’s fault but my own. I caved to the pressures around me because it was easier to say and do things that others liked and wanted me to do than to be me.

However, this MK, a year later is different. She is stronger in her recovery and she knows what she stands for and what she doesn’t. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t have bad days but she is able to talk about them and be open with the mess. She has learned who she is and who she is not. For me the refusal to people please at the expense of my own self worth is still one of the hardest parts about recovery. On some days I do better than others but I know what choosing to view others ideas and standards above my own, does to me. So for my own sake, I came up with a list of certain truths I cling to and certain ones I don’t, that way if I was ever uncertain about my decisions I could come back and remember who I am at the core.

I cling to the gospel of grace. That is what directs my life.
I strive to live a life filled with grace not striving for perfection.
I share my mess (even when it is hard).
I protect myself and don’t put myself in situations that are harmful to my recovery.
I take care of myself and rest, even if it means not hanging out with friends every night.
I express my emotions and feelings. This means, I allow myself to cry when I need to and laugh when I want.
I am honest about where I am at on my journey and my recovery with others and myself.
I ask for help when I need it and I am not ashamed of asking for help.
I don’t say yes to everything. In other words, I don’t over commit and wear myself out.
I allow myself to mess up and make mistakes. Sometimes my failure brings out my greatest strengths.

Just like MK a year ago wanted to cave to who she thought everyone wants her to be, MK today does that as well. And the other day, as i sat across the table from two of my very best friends and shared my heart I had to remember this list. I had to remember that they were my home team. I had to remember the real messy MK was who they loved and because of that they wanted to keep me accountable in my recovery. Sometimes it is harder than others to remember and stay true to this list. I grew up the girl with the smile plastered to her face, the one with no real problems, the dream child, dream student, perfect youth group attendee. That’s a lot of pressure for a kid and even now an adult. I don’t want to have it all together and frankly most of the time I don’t.

If you took a look at my real life you would find out that despite my immaculate room, my closet is a mess, My hair most days needs to be washed, I hate ironing and so my clothes are most likely a little wrinkly. If I could I would live in over sized shirts and yoga pants. I love parties but I hate nightlife and crowded hangouts. I am incredibly nerdy and don’t know near enough about pop culture to hold a conversation. I hate goodbyes and they tear me apart longer than they should. I love (capital love) cheesy ABC Family dramas and could watch them for hours. Some days I spend way too much time deciding if a piece of jewelry goes with an outfit and as a result I do my hair and makeup in ten minutes combined. I am addicted to Diet Coke and drink way more than I should. And honestly, some days are just harder than others when I look in the mirror. The people who love me for who I am know all these things just like my two best friends who sat across the table from me. They could tell you the items of my list without knowing about it because they know who I am at the core. Even more, they embrace this MK and they love her for her broken, messy, energetic, and sometimes crazy self. Many of those things about my real life are things I am scared to share when I am most vulnerable because they make me the quirky messy person I am. However, as I looked back at those photos from a year ago I realized I would rather be this real version of myself than try to please all those people around me… I would rather be myself than lose part of myself…

I don’t know if that resonates with you my friend. Maybe you like me spend too much time caring about what others think of you, and you end up losing part of your self. I want you instead of focusing on how to please others, think about focusing on who you really are at the core. I can promise you my friend, people pleasing only leads to heartache and losing yourself. So this week forget what other people think and learn about yourself and what you are all about. Something tells me you are pretty amazing and I hoping this week you realize that too! And may you ALWAYS REMEMBER…

YOU are LOVED and YOU are WORTH it,

<3MK

30Jun2013

What’s Inside Your Heart

by marthakate

“What you do shows what’s inside your heart”-Nicholas

Six years. That is how long we’ve had together. One week. That is the time we have left. As I sit here and begin to tell you about someone who means the world to me, tears are beginning to cascade down my face. These are happy tears. They are filled with joy for the time we have spent together and the memories shared. They are filled with hope for the future and all that will happen in both of our lives. And they are filled with a full heart for all he has taught me in the last six years. However, I would be lying if I said the tears were not mixed with a hint of sadness because selfishly I don’t want him to go. You see in one week we won’t live five minutes from each other, we won’t be in the same time zone let alone the same country. Communication will be a mix of face timing, texts, and fb messages scattered in with some phone calls. And while it will be more difficult than I could imagine, it will be worth it. He is going to make a difference wherever he goes and I have the joy and the privilege of saying always, that’s my big brother…

If you know me than you know about Nicholas. You know what a huge part of my life he is. And if you don’t then let me clear up some misconceptions for you. We are family, we are brother and sister. He is my big bro and I am his little sis. Not by blood, not by formal adoption, but by heart. And let me tell you I am willing to take down anyone who tries to tell me differently. 😉 It didn’t happen overnight but through the years he has become my big brother, my protector, my adviser, my advocate, my partner in crime and my best friend. It is no crazy accident how we became friends, in fact if you know the story you are laughing at how our friendship began. I could sit here and tell you about the lock in where we became real friends, or the family bonding, and meals that made us siblings but this post isn’t about that. It is about Nicholas.

Some people radiate and you can’t help but notice them and if you have ever met Nicholas you know this true of him. From his smile, to his charisma , to his humor and intelligence he shines. His story is one of perseverance, love, and truly miracles. You could never imagine how much this guy has gone through to bring him to where he is today but that is the most amazing part about him is if you met him you would assume he has had the best life imaginable to bring him where he is. That is the most precious part about him, he his humbly grateful no matter where life takes him. The quote I used to begin this post, is one that Nicholas said to me many years ago and it hangs painted on a canvas in my room as a reminder that all I do shows what my heart is about. Nicholas lives out this statement in every aspect of his life. He lives to help and serve others. He has wisdom that most adults never have. He has a child like spirit that literally is bouncing off the wall at times. He has a heart that loves others with more passion than I have ever seen. And if you have one conversation with him, you know this because his heart evidently shines through.

Truth is I have great friends and a wonderful family but Nicholas and his family are one of the best gifts I have ever received. When I look back on the last six years of my life I could not have made it through without them. His family (which there will be a later post on) and him have been my rock on many of the hardest days I have ever faced. Nicholas and I may have gone to separate colleges and lived apart for most of our friendship but it didn’t matter. We have shared more long talks, skype times, meals, heartbreak, Disney movies and laughter than I could ever count. I have never met anyone who would come home from a six week trip and sleep on an air mattress for weeks because his little sis had occupied his entire room. I have never met anyone who will sit up with me for hours baking cookies and practicing my song for a wedding the next day. He is the person after heartbreak, after bad Ed days, after fights, who never ceased to pick up his phone when I desperately called. And even more after I walked away from each conversation I felt uplifted. He has a gift of turning any situation into a joyous one and a gift for encouragement that exceeds any I have ever seen. He has counseled me over more problems than he would have liked, shared more friends with me than he thought he ever would, and let me talk for more hours than he was ready for. And all those things make up why we have become family, why we have become siblings.

Through Nicholas I have learned that family isn’t made through blood and it isn’t made by having the same name. It is made when you hold each others hands when your world is falling apart. It is when you celebrate the joy of triumph. It is when you cry on each others shoulders. It is made when you clean out closets and run errands together. It is made in the big moments and the little moments. It is made in the in the midst of the darkest days and brightest tomorrows. Family is made when you share all of life deeply and intimately together, when you face it together as one, when you make the promise to be there for one another no matter how many miles separate you, and when you know deep in your heart that you share a bond that can never be broken. That is family.

They say people come into your life and when they leave they leave footprints on your heart. Nicholas hasn’t left footprints he has left a piece of himself in my heart. He has changed my life for good and he has no idea how much he has done so. I am not the same person I was six years ago and so much of that is due to him. So if you know him, if you are a part of our family, thank you for sharing your Nicholas with me always. If you don’t know him you are missing out on one of the best guys on the planet. I have learned more about life, love, truth, and joy from this guy and thank you will never be enough. So as tears fall down my face my heart is full for all the memories we have together. Every time I look at my bracelet, wear one of his necklaces, write in my journal, look at my canvas, watch a disney movie, I will remember that, “What you do shows what is inside your heart.” and I will always remember my Nicholas. The truth is I couldn’t be more beyond blessed with him because he is one in a million!

Love you always and forever Nicholas,

❤ Your Marta

11Apr2013

Life that shall endless be

by marthakate

Last night I was reminded of how truly blessed I am. Wednesday nights have been my favorite for the past four years. Each Wednesday night I walk through the doors and am greeted by a community of people who love me exactly as I am…flawed, messy, and in desperate need of grace. Four years ago, I walked through the doors and was scared because I knew no one in the room. However, I was greeted with warm smiles and people that enveloped me in and for the first time during college I felt at home. A peace washed over me like I had never felt before and I knew I had found the community I so longed to be a part of…and that community is RUF (Reformed University Fellowship)…

As I sat there last night it hit me that this was my last time to sit and hear my pastor preach as a student. I still have a few more large groups left. I still have a couple more ministry team meetings. I still have the Craw fish Boil. I still have Summer Conference…but then it ends. And that is where my heart breaks…my time as an RUF student has flown by and I can’t believe it. However, my heart is still filled with such overwhelming joy because, yes technically my time as a part of the RUF ministry as a student ends, but my community within RUF doesn’t and it never will and for that I am grateful.

I have been involved in many ministries since I was young. They were all wonderful and I loved my time with each. However, there is something about this group, this community that changed my life. It was within this community that I learned that I was messy and broken and that I was loved and given grace despite my messiness and brokenness. It was within this community that I took my mask off, that I became real. These were the people who loved me in spite of my flaws and poured into me when I needed it most.

I have been blessed many times with communities that I have been spent with a group of people. These communities were people I came together with for worship and a lesson, who I had great bible studies with, who we planned events together, had parties together. However, many times I have found that this is where the community ended. We came together for church, bible study, and special events but often we didn’t do life together and this is exactly what I expected when I became a part of RUF. I expected to have a great once a week large group, a good bible study, and enjoy some fun events, be able to sing on the praise team, and then I would go back to my life and do it all again the next week. I was wrong.

What I found is RUF doesn’t live within the walls of the chapel or within the space of Wednesday night. The community of RUF is visible, late nights at Whataburger, during the Slurpee runs at 7-11, at early morning breakfast, during birthday and Christmas parties, in the midst of break ups and heartaches, at the pub, singing karaoke on a Saturday night, and whenever and however we are together or sharing life. These are the people who have held my hands, who have dried my tears, who have reassured my fears, who have loved me when I felt unlovable, who have shown me grace, and who have always pointed me back to the cross. They spoke truth when it was hard to hear and came to my rescue when they saw me in need. They have shown me more love and grace than I could have ever imagined and they have shown me what it means to be in true community.

Now let me spoil the secret for all of you people who are thinking that we are this group of church people who have our lives together, you see that couldn’t be farther from the truth. I am going to speak for the community and say that we are ALL messy, broken people, in desperate need of grace. We have messed up together, hurt each other, made dumb decisions, had to apologize, felt unlovable, had a multitude of struggles and suffered brokenness in many different ways. We in no way are perfect people we are a mess and we need each other. The sole reason that we have been able to love each other and show each other grace, despite our own flawed hearts is because, we have been shown a scandalous and truly amazing grace that none of us deserve. Because of this grace we were given we have tried to show that to others. We have spent time learning to live out this grace, to serve others, to love others, and even when we have screwed up we were shown grace. We believe in and serve a God who is bigger than us, bigger than our mistakes, bigger than our flaws, and bigger than RUF.

So here I sit a little sad because my time with a ministry I love is coming to an end but grateful that I have been given the opportunity to experience a community that keeps the main thing the main thing and even more joyful because this community lasts forever. These dear people are some of my best friends (but really they are :)) and while we may all be headed to different jobs, states, even countries and continents, we share a connection that can never be broken, and a faith and understanding of grace that transcends state, country and continent lines. If you are reading this and have been a part of this community of RUF, thank you will never be enough but I am going to say it anyway. Thank you for your love, your grace, your humor, your laughter, your realness, your brokenness. Thank you for embracing my ribbons and bows, my boy troubles, my Disney princess love, my love for Diet Coke and my constant use of the word best friend. Thank you for making me eat when I needed to, refusing to let me run when I couldn’t stop, for helping me eat ice cream and drink milkshakes, for introducing me to Wayne, for coming to parties at GG’s, for praying for my family, for loving my friends, for listening to me sob, for listening to my uncontrollable laughter, for letting me lead worship, for encouraging me with smiles from the pews as I sing, for loving me when I was unlovable, for telling it like it is, for clinging to the gospel, for keeping the main thing the main thing and for always pointing me back to Jesus and His grace, love, and mercy. Each and every one of you have changed me for good. The world we live in is all too broken and messy but you have made this side of heaven beautiful with the community that you have shown me (and I am not the only one). I am grateful for each of your friendships and my love for each of you is bigger than you can imagine. I am beyond blessed by each of you and you hold a piece of my heart that will be there forever. For many of us our time in RUF is ending but know that our love and friendship is not.

And what about those of you who are reading this and aren’t a part of a community like this? What if you didn’t know such community exists? My first thought is that if you are entering college or are already a college student find the RUF group on your campus! Seriously, DO IT! However, I know this is not reality for many of you. You may be past college age or not there for many years. The good news is that there are other communities like this out there, communities of people that are real, who cling to the gospel, and show love and grace despite their flaws; find those people. You won’t be sorry you did…we all need a community this side of heaven to help bear in our burdens and love us well. I promise you they are out there. My friend, there is hope and it starts with unimaginable grace from a God who loves and chose you despite your messiness, He picked you. It is lived out by the community of people who are devoted to loving Him and showing this grace and love to others. Look for those people and if your interested in RUF… go check it out @ http://www.ruf.org. 🙂 And my friend, ALWAYS REMEMBER…

YOU are LOVED and YOU are WORTH it,

<3MK

2Apr2013

Fairytales and Happily Ever Afters

by marthakate

This quote has become a huge part of my everyday life. I constantly have to remind myself that when I begin to judge a person, most of the time I have no idea what their story is. I have no idea what they have gone through or what has made them the way they are. I have no idea what might have changed them. We all have stories, you have a story and I have a story. I am grateful for each of you that allow me to continually pour my heart out and tell my story…

For a long time I didn’t want to tell my story. I wasn’t comfortable with it. I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t think it was important. However, my story matters just as much as yours does. I honestly never thought I would get to a place where I would be able to tell my story to others and be proud of it, the good, the bad, the ugly, the messy, the mistakes but today I am. Just as that quote states we have all gone through things that have changed us. My story isn’t the same as yours and while many of you may be able to identify with pieces of my story I know there are many things that you can’t relate to, just as I cannot relate to yours and that is okay because all of our stories are as unique as the people who hold them.

From the time I was little I loooovveed reading. I would sit in my room and reads many books in a day, I could never get enough of the stories being told in the books. Whether, it was a princess in a fairytale or a love story I was wrapped up in the tale until I read the last sentences of a happy ending. I couldn’t go to sleep unless I knew that everything worked out in the end. When I was even younger and my dad used to tell me stories before bedtime I had specific rules for the stories he told some of them being: the stories couldn’t be sad, they had to end happy, no one could die, and no talking animals (I was all about it being realistic;)). Even as a little girl I wanted the stories handed to me with a happily ever after at the end tied in a nice little pretty bow. Some of my favorite stories were the princess stories, where they find the prince and ride off into the sunset and the words following, literally state happily ever after.

Because I adored these tales and beautiful stories, I began to think my life should be lived as such. If at the end of everyday there wasn’t a “happily ever after” I didn’t know what to do. My friends, this isn’t the reality of life. Like I have said before, life is messy and broken and some days just aren’t the best. I began to think that because my story wasn’t a “fairy tale” it wasn’t worth sharing…what a lie that is. Now I am grateful that I know one day, I get to have a happily ever after in eternity because of the most amazing grace but while I am here on earth life is often hard. We live in a broken world and we all go through many tough times, which makes telling our stories and sharing our hearts all the more important.

As I began the journey to recovery, the stories that meant the most to me weren’t the ones that told me life was full of roses but the ones that stated life is hard but you are going to make it through. In fact, the stories that were tied with neat little happily ever after bows I began to doubt as lies because I knew that here on earth there were so many struggles and issues that we try to stuff in the closet and that’s what I saw in the “real life fairy tale stories”. The stories that gave me hope, were the ones where people shared their pain, they shared their struggles and they told me how they fought hard to overcome the hardships in their lives. Those stories told me how to find lessons in the mess and joy through the pain. They told me that while life wasn’t all sunshine and roses the fight to recover was worth the blood, sweat, and tears. And I am here to tell you that those stories are exactly right. Those are stories of unconditional love, scandalous grace, amazing mercy and blessings more than you could never imagine.

My friends my story is one of billions. I am not the only young woman who has suffered from anorexia, suffered from depression and anxiety and found grace and hope in the midst of it all. I am just one young woman who decided to share her story to bring hope. My story isn’t anything extraordinary but hopefully it is a story that encourages others and lets them know that they are not alone and that their story matters! Because friend, your story does matter, it is worth telling and through sharing it not only will you find healing but also you have no idea who could find hope from your story. I also want to address for a minute that even throughout the pain I have been as I like to say beyond blessed and I understand that many of you may have experienced pain I could never imagine and I want you to know that I know your story may be hard to even think about telling but I promise no matter how awful you think it is, there is hope! I don’t know each of your stories, I wish I did. I wish I could sit down with each of you, have a cup of coffee and hear the beauty that is your story. Those of you that I do know your stories, it is more encouragement and inspiration to hear them than you will ever know. You inspire me with your hope, grace, and love that encompasses each of your precious stories. I’ve said it before but we are all a work in progress…my story isn’t done and neither is yours, but friend don’t wait till you think it is “finished” to be shared. You have no idea how much your story can be used. Share your story friend, no matter how unimportant, insignificant, painful, shameful, you think your story is…it is beautiful and it is worth telling. You never know who might need to hear your story, you have no idea how God can use it, you have no idea what He has in store for it, you have no idea how much hope and healing it can bring. So share your story this week and watch the beauty unfold…and may you ALWAYS REMEMBER…

YOU are LOVED and YOU are WORTH it!!

<3MK

27Jan2013

Comfort in an Imperfect Journey

by marthakate

This week has been one of many articles, much story sharing, much attention that has led me back to the question: why do it? Why share with the world the most painful, intense, difficult, and messy part of my life? Why admit to having a disorder/addiction/problem/whatever you wanna call it that many may consider embarrassing and shameful? And I can tell you I didn’t have to think long about it, because sharing my story…sharing my journey…sharing my pain…makes all that I went through..it makes it all worth it…

I remember sitting in my therapist office at the very beginning of my recovery and sharing with her that one day I wanted to help others who struggled with Ed. At that point I had no idea how to even help myself. At that moment it was a wish, a dream, a small piece of hope that I held on to. All I knew at that moment was that if somehow, someway I could see the light and I could make it through the darkness, than I wanted to help others do it too. Believe me, I had no idea what it looked like and I couldn’t actually imagine actually being in a place where recovery meant freedom but today I am living in that freedom.

Fast forward a year later and I am blogging, speaking, advocating,networking, meeting, sharing, doing whatever I can to get the message of hope out there. I want people to know that Ed is real and he’s the worst “person” you could ever get into a relationship with but even more I want people to know that hope, that recovery is even more real and even more possible than you could ever imagine. At the end of the day my story is one of millions. I am one girl who had a relationship with Ed and decided to share. At the end of the day it’s not about me and it’s not about my own story. It is about the message of hope and the message of recovery…

I could have never imagined sharing my story with thousands. Being real, being honest, being open, and being imperfect were not things I knew how to do, but here I am today sharing all of that with all of you and it’s worth it more worth it than I could have ever dreamed. And the truth is, doing all of those things above are still difficult because I still am and will always be a work in progress. I still struggle, I still have bad days, I still get upset, my life is still far from perfect but that is OKAY.

I have said this many times before but my life today is beyond blessed and beyond beautiful; in the chaos, in the mess, in the imperfection it is beyond beautifully blessed. Even more than the incredible support that I received from those who love me the most, I have a God that led me through the darkness into the light. One of my favorite verses has become: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God”. – 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

So why do I blog? Why do I share? Why do I reach out? Because I received the ultimate comfort, the ultimate grace, the ultimate love. Now it’s my joy and even more a blessing to share that comfort, to share that hope, to share that grace, to share that love that is way bigger than me, that is way bigger than just my story. I hope my friend, that fills you with hope and you feel loved today, because that darkness doesn’t have to be there forever… and may you ALWAYS REMEMBER…

YOU are LOVED and YOU are WORTH it!

<3MK