Better together. That was a phrase that was often repeated by all of the speakers in California. It has been repeated by many voices since I have been home. I wonder if they’ve been saying it all along and maybe I’m just finally ready to hear it…
Better together is not me. I am more of a, “I’m good all on my own, thanks” kind of girl. For me, safety has always been found in isolation. It isn’t that I don’t like people; it’s more that I don’t want people to see the real me behind the smiles. I don’t want to need people. I don’t want people to think I am needy. I want to keep people at a safe and comfortable distance.
I thought that figuring out my crap on my own somehow made me a better Christian. I was convinced that God was all that I needed. He made me; He could fix me. BUT! He made us to be better together, to need community, and He also isn’t in the habit of “fixing” us. Yes, there are times that we are healed in an instant, but most of the time, God gives us the tools and the people that we need to do the hard work of getting better.
Better together. Even in the last few years of being a part of Celebrate Recovery, I still believed that I was okay to work through things on my own. Yes, I went to small group, yes, I had an accountability partner, but I still didn’t think that I really needed them. You know what that is? Pride. Nasty, ugly, you don’t need anyone ‘cause you’ve got this, pride.
It has taken my life coming to the point of complete chaos for me to honestly admit that I do actually need people. Not the, “yeah, it’s been kind of a tough week” kind of need people, but rather it is the, “I am falling apart right now, can you pray and just hold on to me for a little bit?” kind of needing people. It is the raw, honest, and what sometimes feels humiliating, kind of needing people that God intends when He says that we are better together.
Two are better than one, because they have a good
return for their labour: If either of them falls down
one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls
and has no one to help him up.
I won’t say that my first instinct is to always reach out. I can’t say that I don’t type, delete, type, and delete texts before I have the courage to actually send them. What I will say is this; we are better together. This has been a steep learning curve, this being real and vulnerable. It is not easy, but it is worth it. Sure, I can stumble through on my own and maybe manage to make it to the finish line. BUT! I would rather thrive. I would rather race to the finish with my forever family by my side. I am better together.