Book Review: Finding Spiritual Whitespace

I discovered her words while still finding my way out of the darkness that was a long battle with postpartum depression and anxiety.  She, the blogger with a far bigger platform than my own and a contributor for the most beautiful online community of women I've ever discovered, poured out her heart in words in the middle of her own journey towards healing.  As I read, it was like she was speaking straight into my deepest hurts and showing me how far from alone I really was.  Because we all have a story to tell of our own broken pieces - none of us are perfect - and it's the brave ones who share the hardest pieces of their story.

I've written through a lot of my journey to healing and I've claimed victory over postpartum depression, but there are still days that anxiety creeps in and rears its ugly head.  It's the panic attacks that are so hard to write about, because it's more than just worrying about tomorrow.  I spent well over a year sorting through the memories and hurts behind the anxiety with the help of my counselor and learning how to recognize my triggers and how to cope with the anxious thoughts before a panic attack begins.

Watching Bonnie's own journey unfold through her words gave me courage to keep journeying forward and encouraged me on the days that were still hard.  I've long been anticipating the release of her book, but what I didn't realize until I began reading just the first few pages was how much I would need her words today.

While the dark days of postpartum depression are behind me, the last year has been one of sifting and trials that have left me breathless and often too tired and weak to fight the anxious thoughts that still come.  Memories long buried have resurfaced in the midst of present storms and I've found myself waking in a panic, stuck between the hurts of the past and the pains of today.

I've been realizing that those memories I've tried so hard to forget have created strongholds that still hold me prisoner today.  As much as I want to keep running from them, I know that the only way to be really free is to allow Him to enter in and walk me through them once more, not to simply relive the past, but to both learn and heal from the hurts and pains I've buried in the deepest parts of my heart.

It never ceases to amaze me how He bring the right people and the right words to me just when I need them.  Bonnie's words were meant for such a time as this and I'm just so grateful she allowed Him to use her story even when it wasn't the story she wanted.

"Maybe PTSD isn't who I really am.  Maybe it's just what I'm walking through.  Maybe 'beloved' is who I am.

I began wondering. How would life look as the beloved? What are the small, imperfect movements I can take to be free, as the beloved?

This is why I choose to write, even if it means I'll feel broken for a season.  Because the other side of brokenness is restoration; the hope - the journey - is wholeness."

After every chapter, Bonnie invites her readers to enter into their own story, to pull up a chair, and find spiritual whitespace in communion with Him.  I love how she prompts us to not just reenter the painful memories, but to invite Jesus into those scenes.  "It isn't who you are now, but you've had to survive it." And somehow, by entering those places once more, I can see them through His eyes and watch how He was there every step of the way carefully piecing together a beautiful masterpiece.

"...whitespace frees us to face the truth about ourselves and this truth sets us free.  When we make room for whitespace, we have to move things. We are changing how we've always done things.  We uncover layers of ourselves we had to put to the side in order to deal with the stress at hand."

Finding spiritual whitespace is a journey I know I'll be on for a long time and as I move forward, I'll be filling more of the pages in this little notebook I opened for the first time while reading Bonnie's book.  It's no coincidence that the same year He revealed peace to be my one word is also the year I found this book and these words about rest and whitespace.

"You and I were destined to journey off script.  To walk with Jesus by faith into the whitespaces of our story - to trace the rainbow through the rain."

As the old hymn says:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
when sorrows like sea billows roll;
whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,
it is well, it is well with my soul.

And indeed, when I journey off script, walking by faith instead of by sight, though sorrows like sea billows roll, I can say it is well with my soul, because He is my quiet place in the middle of the storm.  He leads me to green pastures when I allow Him to reveal the whitespaces in my story and search for the rainbows He paints in the rain.

 

Finding Spiritual Whitespace: A Quiet Retreat

My love walks in with a smile on his face at the chorus of cheers from three little ones eager to see him and jealous for his attention.  I smile at the scene, kiss him hello, and walk out the door for my much needed quiet retreat.

Of course, I can't leave without my own chorus of kisses and hugs for both me and the growing belly we all watch with eager anticipation.  As I climb into the car and start to drive away, my heart tugs a little as the invisible strings between us are stretched.  No matter how much I need this time, I can never fully leave when there are three little pieces of my heart stretching their wings and learning how to live and breathe apart from me. 

The silence as I drive is strange and nearly uncomfortable.  I can't stop thinking about the noise and chaos of the day...and, somehow, the farther I drive, the more I miss and appreciate what I left behind.  Isn't it strange that part of the reason I need a quiet retreat like this is to remember what a gift the not so quiet times really are?

***

I lay in bed long after the tears subside, my love lost in a deep sleep, wondering how to quiet the storms inside and make sense of all the emotions and memories and mess in the hidden places of my heart.  Memories that long lay buried in my mind have been slowly resurfacing, triggered by the least likely moments.  I'm left confused and broken and wondering...why now?

I want so much to close the door once more on the hard memories I've tried so hard to ignore, but I know I can't.  The more I bury them, the harder it is to sort through it all.  Even the hard memories are part of the story He has written for me, but sometimes I just want to skim over those pieces so I can get to the happy ending. 

So, in the quiet, as the memories flood and bury me all over again, I listen for the still, small voice of the One who comes to me in the middle of the storm and quietly walks with me.  I turn to Him, my heart broken and weary from the moments I just want to forget, but instead of brushing them away and leading me out of the storm, He walks with me through the storm.  He gently urges me to enter those memories once more and as I cautiously step forward, one step at a time, I see those moments far differently than I ever have before.

He stands there holding every tear in the bottle He has kept from the moment of my first cries and I remember that even in the hardest moments, He was always there.  He leads me forward and I see how He carried me through every painful moment.  He knew me even when I didn't know myself and He kept on writing, knowing that the tangle and mess of these pieces would one day create a beautiful tapestry of a life full and rich in Him.  

***

My hand rests on my growing belly and soon she is kicking away, reminding me that she is here and that our story isn't finished yet.  I watch her movements and smile at the way all the pieces that didn't make sense brought us here. 

There are days that I still wonder and days when the pain still runs deep, but in the quiet, watching my belly move and grow, sneaking in to gaze at the rise and fall of three sleeping peacefully in their beds, and resting my arms over the man I love lost deep in his own sleep, I remember how to count the blessings instead of the hurts.  The more I choose a heart of gratitude, the more my heart heals and the memories long buried can finally be laid to rest.

Linking up with Bonnie Gray and a community of women finding their own spiritual whitespace.  Stay tuned tomorrow for my official book review of her beautiful book. 

Finding Spiritual Whitespace: A Letter to My Younger Self

Dear Middle School Me,

Right now you're confused and hurt and wondering where you fit in this world.  You feel things deeply but everyone tells you you're "too sensitive" and that you need to "lighten up".  You throw yourself into your school work to forget about the friends who push you away and the way you never seem to fit in anywhere.

Plus, you're so afraid of failure, so there is really no other way.  That one time you got a D on a history quiz and the disappointed look on your parents' faces haunts you.  You'll do everything possible to never feel that pain again...even if it means pushing those hurts and pains and the way you feel everything so deep and hard into the furthest corners of your heart.

You learn to hide and forget, but I want you to know that you don't have to.  It's okay to feel deeply every moment of your life, because it's the way God made you.  He made no mistake when He knit you together in your mother's womb.  I know it doesn't make sense now and you wish you really could just let things go, but God knows that your tender heart is needed in this world of pain and suffering and sorrow.

You pour your words secretly into your journals, letting the tears fall at night when no one is watching, hiding your words in the darkest corner of your closet.  You've always dreamed of being a writer, but that dream seems so far away now...and, besides, who would ever want to read your words anyways?  The only words you can find right now are a jumbled heap of hurts and fears that don't make any more sense on paper than they do in your heart. 

You long to be loved, but all you see when you look in the mirror is an overweight girl with crooked teeth and huge glasses. Clothes shopping is your worst nightmare, because the mirror only magnifies every flaw and insecurity.  You hate summer, because it means shorts and swim suits and exposing more imperfections that you work so hard to hide from the world.

Someday your body that you try so hard to hide will bring life into the world and you will smile at every stretch mark and the stories they have written in your life.  You will curl up next to your love, the man who promised in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health...and he will gently caress every stretch mark and flaw, whispering words of beauty and love that take your breath away.  He will marvel at the way your body is growing and changing as it carries life and he will look at you with a love so deep and strong it will change the way you see the skin you are in.

You will be broken even more and you will question so much...but the One who knew every piece of your story long before you were placed in your mother's womb will not let you go.  Just when you think you can't take anymore, He will whisper words of love and life and breathe grace and peace into all your hurts.  You will break, but you will heal and your healing will be part of the story and purpose He began writing into your life long ago.  

And someday you will share your words with the world and start writing your story as a memoir, embracing your long ago dreams and finding the confidence to love the beautiful mess your life has written.  People will read your words and tell you to keep on writing.  You'll write when nothing makes sense and somehow writing your story will help you understand who you are and why you're here.  The words will fall from your heart and hands like poetry and wash over you like healing waters.

So, though you want to hide and all you feel is hurt and brokenness, I want you to know that you are beautiful...just the way you are.  Not one of your tears is forgotten and God is not finished with you yet.  He really does work all things together for good and He will use your broken pieces to not only make you whole again, but to breathe life and encouragement into so many other lives.  Though there is weeping in the night, joy will come in the morning and you will be more than okay. 

Linking up my spiritual whitespace moment with Bonnie Gray and a community of women Finding Spiritual Whitespace.