I stumbled upon the definition of liminal space recently.
I knew this word and was familiar with it from my study of literature and reading about post-colonial theory, the ideas of Gayatri Spivak.
Liminal is defined as “the transitional space between who you once were, and who you are becoming: on the threshold of significant change.”
That adequately describes me, as of late.
Now, sober, undergoing therapy, and extending grace and mercy and surrender, to my own trauma and baggage and unhealthy coping mechanisms that I have developed, and addressing my own mental health issues, including my PTSD.
I know that I will spend the rest of my life trying to heal, but also, also—
I feel on the precipice of change.
No longer trying to escape and self-medicate and repress my feelings of extreme grief and loss and trauma—
I am now aware of more clarity, more time, more ways at which there is change and revolution, evolution happening within me.
My ultimate prayer of surrender to God has been—
Please help to heal me, in my recovery, to use me, so that I may use my gifts, experiences, and wisdom to help others.
I want to serve others.
I am not sure I would have chosen this reality, this life.
I hear some people say that we choose our parents before life and others who say that our life trajectories to learn or live through or process some unresolved issue that we needed to work through from a previous life.
Perhaps.
To which I think—
Well, I agreed to take on a pretty big undertaking.
But since I am here. Since this is my life—
My ultimate prayer that I offer up is this :
“Please make something good from all this shit.”
This isn’t to say woe is me. Truly. I know others have it much worse, in genocide, starvation, third world level of poverty, etc.
But, it is also to acknowledge and say quite honestly—
My situation is unusual, even statistically, from a purely mathematical angle. And I do often times wonder what life would be like if my existence, my family situation, had been simpler. Less dysfunctional.
Even, hah, by one less suicide.
I sometimes wonder and marvel at peers’ existences with getting together with family reunions and visiting with their kiddos and their grandparents and I think—
Hmm. I wonder what that would be like.
If I am made strong through my weakness, through my trials. If God is close to me during those times, which I believe They are—
Then, please, use this. Use me. With a clear-headed sobriety, to serve and help others.
Please help me to heal, recovery, and help others.
Amen—Let it be so.
Amen.