Sister

Please be ugly with me. Share with me the fear in your face and let me hear the shaking of your voice when life feels like it is too much and your footing is unstable. Share with me the rambling thoughts that keep you up at night. Don't play it cool when you are genuinely confused and concerned and when new and different perspectives begin to bubble to the surface of your mind. Share those things.
Tell me about your disgraceful response to a challenging situation and the words you wished you used. Drop the mask. Stop holding it together (because the truth is you aren't). Stop thinking you're supposed to be some-thing that isn't who you are right now.
If I am deprived of sharing in your struggles then I have no idea what magic has truly happened when I get to see the glow and the triumph. I won't know the path you walked, the walls that fell, the changes you submitted to for the sake of glory. More importantly, I cannot see the hand of God in your story when your existence is cloaked in a veil. When you're always pretty. When you seem to have it all together. When you're hiding and when you're gripped with fear and alone and ashamed.... I can't know your victory if I'm not there.

This is our privilege as sisters, as women. I urge you, when you are in these depths, cry out. Get ugly. Let someone see you. You are not alone. You are cherished. And more than anything we want to see YOU rise up from the ashes. 

Always love. 

Diana