When I was in the throes of figuring out the story arc and content of my second book, a fellow author reached out to encourage me. We bless each other into believing that the brokenness we are carrying won’t keep us from beauty and bravery.Īnd we don’t stop needing that blessing, every time brokenness is weighing us down. My roommates rubbed my aching hands and back when I couldn’t stand another minute of pain. Friends carried my books across campus when I couldn’t. There were many days I didn’t think I’d make it to graduation, let alone be physically able to walk across the stage.Īnd I made it there because others gave me enough grace to keep showing up, even when it was nearly too hard. I often couldn’t sit through class because of pain, and my roommates frequently had to cut my food for me at dinner or drive me across campus because walking was too hard. I finished my senior year doing three semesters’ worth of work in two, with one half the amount of energy as my former self. because I almost didn’t make it there.ĭuring the middle of my junior year, disease exploded into my life like a missile. I felt like a beam of light floating across the stage. I was the happiest graduate at my college graduation.
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