I always celebrate my birthday in one way or another but a whole birthday party is usually not the move.
The last birthday party I had was when I turned twenty-five. Can we say LIT!!!! So I guess it’s safe to say that every ten years I throw myself a real live party! Thirty-five has come and gone but let me say that my last minute party was right on time. True it was a distraction from life and its troubles but isn’t that what most celebrations are in some form or fashion. I welcomed the distraction. But now that the dust has settled and I am back to living my real life apart from the dancing for three hours straight in Giuseppe heels and fitted sequenced dress I have to deal with my emotions and what not. Story of my life, huh?! You will not master something by neglecting it though.
I am thirty five years old and every time I say it out loud it goes one or two ways; I rejoice in that I have made it this far (Lord knows I could’ve been somewhere altogether different) or I start focusing on my disappointments and pains, naturally so.
Most of the time my heart is on my sleeve either beating strong or bleeding but sometimes I put a little wall around it. Wall or no wall it still feels so deeply every single thing. Always have and I gather it always will. Since this is my state I’ve had to learn to be intentional about how I respond to certain situations. Physical muscles won’t form themselves and neither will spiritual and emotional muscles. As fragile as the heart is and mine especially, I still would rather have a broken heart over a bitter one any day. To most that doesn’t sound like much of a choice but trust me there is a difference. My initials may be BB but I don’t want them to stand for “Bitter Brooke”! Been there, not going back.
The heart that is broken has the promise of healing to see it through the process of each broken piece coming back together to form an even stronger heart than before. It will beat again.
The bitter heart has yet to realize its need to be broken and healed. It forsakes the power of rejuvenation and its own ability to overcome all that is trying to destroy it from within.
What separates the broken and the bitter heart from one another is forgiveness and forgiveness alone. Although the journey to get there is uncomfortable and must be taken again and again it’s necessary. At first glance the broken heart and bitter heart appear to be identical because the pain feels the same. Be that as it may, healing will only come after forgiveness and what is not broken has no realization of its true state of infirmity.
Love comes slowly, then we fall so hard and yet when tried it goes so fast. Why? Because we are not willing to allow our brokenness to show us ourselves. Yes, even when someone has hurt you, there is something to see in yourself if you are to grow from the situation. Mary J Blige said it best in one of her songs
“You gotta love like you’ve never been hurt to find the love that you deserve. Be indestructible”
Unfortunately, we’d rather hold onto the pain slowly suffocating the life out of us and then wonder how we’ve become so cold.
I refuse.
Instead I choose to prosper through my pain and live! That’s my gift to myself every year. A promise to continue to embrace my brokenness regardless how it came about. Whether it came as a result of my self-inflicted pain or someone else’s treatment of me. The power is still in my response. I cannot afford to relinquish it to circumstances. I like expensive things but not if it costs me my joy.
There is no merit for me in choosing this path for my life, I am not super woman, and I am not striving to be perfect. I do realize the mercies of God enables the steps I take over each stepping stone of insecurity, anger, disappointment, rejection and all other less attractive experiences I’ve had in these thirty-five years. I am fragile and after the celebratory highs fade and that old bitterness tries to take root in the foundation of my heart, I am getting better with recognizing it and taking action. Better with age or nah?!!
Let me be clear, I am not bitter heart proof, none of us are but what I know for sure at thirty-five that maybe I wasn’t totally convinced of at twenty-five, is that hope is a sure thing and as the broken heart relies on the promise of healing, it in return willingly forgives.
Be Blessed
B
💙🖤❤️
Yes! 💛💜