By The Skin of My Teeth

I'm not a big Twitterer myself, but do enjoy following a number of people.

My daughter for one, who can sum up quite a lot in only 140 characters. She often posts with courage that I lack in admitting her struggles with what she/we have been going through. You're right my sweetheart, a lot of this really, really sucks. You may put it in different words, but know that I hear you. For the beautiful, honest, loving, smart, courageous (and often hilarous) person you've always been. I'm so proud to share you with others in your life who love and care for you. This post is dedicated to you.

I digress, back to Twitter. I follow Jasmine Star, a California wedding photographer (whose work is just gorgeous!) - who could have easily have gone into a career of standup comedy - her Tweets often make me laugh (I'm a fork-catching ninja too!) and are at times inspirational. They lead me to wish I knew her whole family reading the wonderful things she says about them. We used to have the same wedding anniversary. Don't worry Jasmine, I won't hold it against you that we no longer have that in common.

I recently started following a gentleman by the name of David Roads (Motivational Quotes). A few hours ago he posted the following:

'We all at certain times in our lives find ourselves broken. True strength is found in picking up the pieces".

Broken. This is a word that has come up a lot in conversations over the last year and some. Broken. What does that mean? I've said I feel broken. My physical body is surely broken, and my spirit at times has been broken. Almost as palpable had my spine been snapped in two.

By admitting that I've felt broken, others have shared that they too have felt broken at times in their life. We have words for this emotional pain; shattered, torn apart, ripped open, stabbed in the heart, crushed. All physical descriptions for that which has devastated one's very soul and not left a single mark of evidence on the outside of what has happened on the inside.

I'm not alone. Having felt broken doesn't make me less of a person. It doesn't make me irrational, unbalanced or immature (I'm using the gentler of the descriptives that have been offered up to me). It doesn't make me undeserving of respect and compassion. It makes me human. And if you've been there, welcome to the clan - you're human too.

I'm picking up the pieces. By the skin of my teeth. With the love and support of friends, family and even lots of people I hardly know (since starting this blog three years ago, I'm astounded as to how many strangers have taken the time to write to me with words of encouragement, faith and stories of their own to share).

Major obstacles keep being thrown in my way and sometimes I do feel myself nearing the lip of the Pit of Despair (Princess Bride reference - one of my alltime favourite movies. I could use a Wesley of my own right about now!)

But I pick up the pieces. And try to pick up my daughter's pieces. True strength, or is it having just enough optimism to hope that tomorrow will be better?