Hello again. Miss me? I’m supposed to be feeding the lake every day this year, remember? Well, I hit quite a dry spell and allowed myself to collect dust. Luckily a flood, literally a flood, helped me get back in the flow.

I just returned from an “all in” kind of weekend. I was terribly afraid of it, feared it, dreaded it.  And that was before multiple feet of rain washed our campground away. But I committed to it and put it in God’s hands. In the process, I learned that my greatest wound is possibly my greatest weapon in the fight for God’s kingdom.

I have a need for validation, affirmation, approval. I’ve been screaming for it. I’ve struggled mightily with it. And I have let it consume me. What I learned on this weekend, as a torrential downpour pushed our group all over the Franklin area, is that this gaping hole in me has given me great compassion and insight for others. I also learned that I’m not alone.

All this time, there have been many others dealing with exactly the same kind of thing. And I was doing nothing for them. While I wallowed in self-pity about validation and affirmation, I was sharing none of it with others. I was oblivious to similar needs of people very close to me. I was boxed in, staring at my navel, contemplating why things are the way they are. Woe is me.

It’s amazing how we’re led to believe we are all alone in our struggles, like no one else is feeling the same way or wrestling with the same issues. When the truth is, no matter what you are combatting, countless other people out there share your pain. The world tries to isolate us. Just like any predator and prey situation. Think of a sheep being attacked by wolves. Think tipsy girl at a bar. The predator tries to separate us from the pack and isolate us. Prevent us from feeding on the strength and support of others. Limit our ability to empathize and share common trials.

We’re made to believe we are the only one dealing with our situation. There we are alone, left to battle the predator single-handed. All along truly believing that no one can relate to what we’re going through.

I started my journey alone. It was me and God. And that’s okay. But on this rain-soaked weekend, I learned that I can only go so far in isolation and that walking this path with others will significantly increase my chances of getting where I want to go in my trek toward a closer relationship with God.  There are people who understand my struggles. People I can help, and people who can help me.  Again, my wound can indeed be my weapon.

There is great power in numbers. I am not alone. And neither are you.