I was sprawled across the floor, broken and emotionally bruised. I was a divorced woman with two young children. Children I was raising independently and alone. A woman with pieces of my heart and soul scattered around so far and deep, I couldn’t possibly collect them all if I tried. A woman who had lost trust, lost faith, and lost hope. A woman, lost.
On the bathroom floor, alone with my emotion and chaos, I begged for answers, for solutions, for reasons to be here in this moment, with this broken life and interrupted dreams. I cried out to God, although yelling might be a more accurate description. I wondered why he would destroy everything I worked so hard for. I wondered why he led me to a man that would provide nothing but destruction and pain. Why would God lead me to struggle? Why would he lead me to hardship?
At the time of the effortless tears and heartbreak I couldn’t have possibly predicted the light at the end of the tunnel. I felt encompassed by darkness. I couldn’t see the beauty that would come of the brokenness. What I couldn’t see, nor understand, was that God wasn’t destroying things. He wasn’t terminating dreams and futures. He was simply dismantling the undeserving, allowing me to rebuild. He wasn’t destroying my hopes and dreams. He was deconstructing the pieces of my life that were no longer meant for me, so that I could build something beautiful and worthy.
It took years before I would see the immense beauty in the construction. Hope and faith and trust didn’t come easy. I had to work hard to notice them and carry them with me. When I finally did, I started breathing easier, walking more gracefully, and carrying a lighter load. I didn’t know what the outcome would be or what it would look like. I only knew that I should keep stepping, keep breathing, and keep building the best version of myself with what remained.
It wasn’t easy. There were times of complete desperation and heartbreak, but I kept breathing and kept stepping towards bigger and better things. One day, I woke up feeling different. I felt healed. I felt the presence and influence of a woman I was proud of, me. I rebuilt my life, and the intricate composition of my entire being.
I felt happy again, joyful again, and hopeful again. I looked into the mirror, and for the first time in a very long time, I saw eyes filled with light. A soul filled with hope and positivity, and a heart that was ready to head into the future.
Sometimes, when we are at our worst, our bottom, or lowest, we feel like God and life are destroying things. Deconstructing the things we love. When in fact, He is giving us a second chance to rebuild things stronger, braver, and better than they were before. He puts us under construction not only to repair but to create something more beautiful than we could have ever imagined.
A thirty-something wife, mother and educator who has Indiana roots and a passionate spirit. Chelsea is a sappy romantic, coffee junkie, book collector, and person who wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s sarcastic, full of jokes, full of tears, and enjoys writing most when life gets messy or complicated. In 2017, Chelsea's mother passed away. Through her grief journey, she decided to take her mother’s advice and share her writing with the world. One day she gained the courage to honor her mother's wishes and write. It turned out to be one of the best decisions she's ever made.