The Ugly Truth About Self-Pity, Pride and the Light that Heals All Our Open-Wounds
My momma always told me, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” Yeah, well, I guess lately I’ve taken that to heart. I haven’t been able to write, to talk, to process much because the ugly truth is, I think I’ve been afraid if I opened my mouth, not too much nice was going to come out. The ugly truth is, sometimes you can struggle through and put on a brave smile and hold back the spewing lava behind your eyes but it still burns you up from the inside. It still burns. Bitterness never leads to betterness. And here I am, this very, very pregnant mama, pregnant with this seventh baby, skin splitting ready, any day now, ready, and feeling very unready to actually deliver this most precious cargo into the light of this broken world. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent the last nine months contemplating whether his delivery day will be my dying day. And sure, I shouldn’t be thinking those thoughts, I shouldn’t be focusing on what could be, but it’s