Hello, My Name Is ...

There have been a couple of times in my life when I've had people who held me accountable on certain things that I was struggling to overcome. There have been a few times in my life when I've served as the one holding someone else accountable on issues in their lives. And I'll tell you a secret ... it's much easier to hold another person accountable for their actions or thoughts or words or walk with the Lord than to be held accountable myself for those same things. I don't like having to open up the shadowy parts of my heart or soul to anyone, and I certainly don't enjoy having another person call me out on my failures or ... dare I say it ... my sins.

I'm sure that many of you are familiar with the way people introduce themselves in Alcoholics Anonymous or any of the many 12-step type groups. Each person says, "Hello, my name is Sam (or Mary or John or Sue or whomever they may be), and I'm an alcoholic (or a drug addict or a compulsive gambler or a nicotine addict or whatever other stronghold they are trying to overcome). If you've ever been present in one of those types of meetings, it's pretty powerful to hear so many people from so many different walks of life openly and willingly admit their struggles in such a public forum. It's humbling ... it's inspiring ... it's real ... gut-wrenchingly real and raw, in fact.

I think in some ways, those of us who blog about the true issues of our lives are sort of using this forum as our own way of standing up and saying, "Hello, my name is Terrie, and I'm a ... " A dear friend of mine who writes an amazing blog of her own said something to me in an email last night that really struck me. "That element of despair just takes us to the very edge and makes for some good writing." I don't know about my own writing, but I know that her writing from the depths of her pain is real and raw and revealing ... and it's healing to many of us who read along with her as she shares her journey as she tries to find her way out of her own desert.

As I left my doctor's office last night with another bag full of sample medications for my wounded shoulder in hopes of nursing it along until after Meghann's wedding, I had one overriding thought as I climbed into my car. "Hello, my name is Terrie, and I'm a druggie." No, I'm not a drug addict (and I never have been, I might add), and most of my medications are to treat depression or diabetes. But still ... I left the doctor's office once again with another bag of drugs, and it made me feel weak and like a failure. Funny ... the way I so often feel is the same way many people feel who attend those groups where they rise and say, "Hello, my name is ... "

Maybe that's part of what God is teaching me during this season of my life ... to be real and raw with Him ... to admit my struggles ... to acknowledge my need ... to stand before Him and say, "Hello, God, my name is Terrie, and I'm nothing without You."