Side Effects

It can be a strange thing coming out of a hard time. You can see that the storm has passed. You can feel peace slowly make its way into your heart. You can hear your thoughts telling you it’s okay to exhale. But you suddenly feel terrible. All of the holding on, the demanding work, the head down “I can do this” comes barreling in and something inside you let’s go of survival mode and you stand face to face with the hard stuff. 

It was numb for a while. It’s not numb now. 

I can’t tell you the number of friends who have quietly shared with me that that they feel like the wheels are coming off all of a sudden. After a year spent pushing forward, making it through all of the difficult things, finding the silver linings, and now seeing a light at the end of the pandemic tunnel, it doesn’t feel like they thought it would. 

On the one hand, I think we hold a buoyant hope in our hearts. It jumps around making us feel giddy with the idea of the return to “normal” ahead. And yet, for some, we can’t help but feel the weight of the unraveling that often comes after a crisis. I’m watching it in friends, I see it in the eyes of our children, it tears at the edge of our communities, and so I thought I’d name it here for us, name it and offer grace into the spaces that need healing. 

There are side effects of a year of quarantines and isolation. Side effects from fear and loss.  

It’s alright if we feel it now, even when everything is starting to look up. I have come to learn through struggles in my life that sometimes the pain comes way after the hard thing has happened. It’s often a delayed response. When the clouds are lifting the thunderbolts of realization can strike. And that’s okay. Our bodies, our minds, our spirits have been working so diligently to keep going, that when we are finally able to let our guard down the weight of it all creeps in. 

That’s why I wanted to talk about it here so that we can drag our side effects, the fears, losses and hurts, into the light and not let them gain momentum. I believe if we share the vulnerable things, we make space for God’s healing power to surge between us and bring light back into those sacred places in our hearts.

Some of us are tired. Some of us are not sure how to be unafraid. Some of us are worrying more than ever about our children. Some of us are just sad. Let’s not do any of that alone. If any of us find ourselves feeling differently than we thought we would, or think we should…. let’s let grace in instead of more pressure or isolation. Let’s allow ourselves to be where we are, without judgment, and reach out so we aren’t in those places alone. 

Talk about it. Be vulnerable. Share. Find support. Don’t think you can’t feel what you do just because the timing feels strange. Know you aren’t alone. Know you aren’t the only one. 

I hope that we can be on the lookout for one another and our families as we unravel and reboot. God has given us each other to walk through this journey together and that job is not done yet. I hope that we can create space for one other to be real and feel what we need to. Space for everyone to respond and cope differently. Patience and love for all of the invisible pain we might be processing. 

Grace is unmerited favor and there is no shortage of it for all of us. 

Let’s allow ourselves to be true with one another so we can indeed move forward changed for the better and more deeply connected to each other and a God whose love is a stronghold when the hard stuff suddenly decides to show up. 

There’s no timeline for healing or the right way to respond. Just be you and let yourself be loved well no matter how you are experiencing any unexpected “side effects.”