Two years ago, I went to the hospital to start an emergency induction with my one son, while my other son was set to have surgery at a different hospital 3-hours away. The details are complicated, so I’ll spare you. I got through that day and the following days with the help of a text message from a friend.
She reminded me of who I was with five simple words, “You are a badass b****.” Another friend of mine memorialized the text in a T-shirt.
Yes, I love Jesus and yes, I cuss a little. I don’t like that last word, so we will just keep it to badass.
The thing is, I did not feel like a badass that day. I did not feel excited about my son’s delivery. I only felt fear. Because there were so, so many unknowns about his health.
But when it came time to go to the hospital, a shift took place. When nerves settled in as I waited for the doctor, I said to myself, “I am a badass.” When it came time for the fetal intervention surgery, I said to myself with tears rolling down my face, “I am a badass”. When it came time to push, not knowing what may be wrong upon my son’s arrival, I said to myself, “I am a badass.”
And when my son went off to the NICU, with every procedure he endured, I reminded myself, “He will get through and so will I because I am a badass.”
I am all about letting the grieved grieve. I am all about owning and not ignoring the hardships of this life. I am all about fighting our toxically positive culture, especially in the church.
But there comes a time when we have to fight. We have to fight through the fear, through the tears, through the sadness and resentment. There comes a time when we have to make the shift and remind ourselves we can do incredibly hard things. God made us to feel, and He also made us to rise. We can grieve deeply and we can move forward because he made us resilient.
So, when the time comes to go to battle, when the time comes to start rewriting our stories, when the time comes to take the first step, and then the next, we remind ourselves of the truth: we are badasses.
