This last fall, Ty had the opportunity to record his testimony with a local video producer, and this last Sunday, our pastor finally got to share it with the congregation. One of the most beautiful pieces of sharing a testimony is that while most people cannot relate to every aspect of the journey, they can usually find something in the story they can easily identify with. Afterwards, our pastor invited people to share with Ty which parts stood out to them, what areas struck them, where they were able to relate to, etc. and one woman, about our age, timidly, yet bravely, raised her hand and said something along the lines of, "I really appreciated your transparency in your marriage and struggles you had with your kids. I've had similar things with my marriage and my kids and it's really nice to be able to say, 'Hey, me too!'"

"Hey, me too."

Such a simple statement but so incredibly powerful. Over the last year, I have felt the need and desire to spread this message because it is a message that I have desperately needed to hear many times and believe so many people also need to hear despite which season of life you find yourself in. Whether you're a teenager navigating big emotions and the uncertainties of life, a newlywed struggling to blend two natural-born sinners into one body, new parents on the verge of tears constantly because all of a sudden have a human you never thought you could love so much on one hand, and you feel like you're drowning on the other, or maybe you're empty-nesters figuring out how to just be husband and wife again. Listen, wherever you are, you need to hear from people, "Me too. I've been there. I am there."

Following Ty's testimony, he had a friend ask how I was handling it because in his testimony, he talks openly about when our marriage had reached its lowest point, as well as struggles we faced in our parenting over the last 4 or so years. Ty is not one to hold back, so he was very open about these difficult years. And honestly, part of me wanted to crawl under a rock knowing that people were going to hear it all. What are they going to think of us? What will they say? If you would've asked me 2 years ago to share our story with the world, I would've said no way. I would've been perfectly fine keeping our struggles private and allowing everyone to just get to see the sweet Instagram pictures instead of the reality behind them. But what I've come to realize through these struggles is that we need to get more comfortable with saying to people, "Hey, me too. I've been there. I am there. It is hard. I have no idea what I'm doing. It hurts. I also have felt that anger before. But, have hope. This is a season and I can promise you, it won't last forever. Here are some things that helped me. Can I pray for you? Do you need a coffee? Can I bring you dinner? Can I take your children so you and your husband can talk?" 

After having Quynn, I had so many people in my life, both personally and at work, often say to me, "I don't know how you do it so well! You've got it all together." So let me scream this from the rooftop, I DO NOT! I might have made it out of the house on time, but it was WWIII in the process with 4,000 threats along the way. It was during this time of my life that I realized the importance of being open and vulnerable with people. It wasn't helpful to them, or to me, to pretend like things were smooth, easy, and without a massive amount of work behind the scenes. I have found that motherhood, in particular, can feel isolating and lonely. When you are in the trenches, it's easy to feel as if you are the only one who has ever experienced _________________. Fill in the blank. And I would argue that the same is true for marriage, for our jobs, or for life in general. This has been heavy on my heart for the youth of our world right now, who are greatly suffering from isolation, fear of not living up to other people's standards and are constantly fighting the thoughts of not being good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, popular enough (Thanks in large part to social media). I loved being a teacher for this very reason - to be able to say to them, "Hey, me too. I've been there. I still fight those fears at times. But let me tell you, it will pass. It will get better." No matter the season we find ourselves in, no matter where we are or where we've been, we must be willing to be bold and encourage others with a simple, "Hey, me too. You are not alone."

Ty's friend asked how I was handling it mainly because his own wife has had a difficult time sharing struggles she/they are facing out of fear of what others might think. And listen sister, I. Get. That. BIG time. I am an extremely reserved person. There are a handful of people in my life I share the ins and outs with because being vulnerable is hard. And hear me when I say this: Your entire social media following doesn't need updates on your marriage struggles. There is a time, place, and community to share with, but my point being: It's okay to let people in to see the real you behind the cute Instagram pictures. The hard things, the good things, the things you have no idea what to do with, your dreams, and your let downs. Take these pictures for example. On the surface, you might say to yourself, "Oh my gosh. So cute. They look like they had the best time." But, if you've ever had a trip that most definitely didn't live up to your expectations - me too. If you've ever had a child meltdown in the middle of everything because you told them you wouldn't buy them an outrageously priced toy - me too. If you've ever yelled at your child because of their behavior - me too. If you have ever questioned why you even try sometimes - me too. Pictures are beautiful, and there were a lot of good, sweet moments from this trip, but they also hide a lot. So, in case you need to hear it... me too.

Some of the greatest gifts God has blessed me with are a mom and sisters who keep it real, who have been there, and normalize my struggles and fears. As well as friends that I can pour everything out to and the entire time I'm speaking, they're intently listening, eyes locked in, and heads nodding as if to say, "Yes girl. I get you." One of my favorite things my friend, Elisa, does is when she throws her hands up in the air after you've shared what you're going through, and just says something like, "Yes. Preach. Me too. It's SO hard!" In that moment, I just feel a weight lifted. I'm not alone. I'm not crazy. And they still love me.

Having a community of people around to encourage us, support us, and help us feel like we are not alone is essential to our mental health. As difficult as it is, we have to be willing to let go of the notion that people will judge us or think less of us when we share the mountains we are facing. The right people, the people that God places in our lives for a reason and purpose, will not judge us. They will not think less of us. They will lift us and encourage us as we make the climb. They will journey with us and help us see that we are not alone and that there are people who have journeyed there before us. God has placed us in a unique position and with a specific purpose so that one day, whatever it is that we're facing, we will be able to use that story to encourage others by helping them realize that they are not alone either.