I have a confession to make.

I am a Grey’s Anatomy fanatic.

I’ve rolled through the first few seasons so many times I’ve lost count. More than anything at this point, it’s familiar, comforting, and easy to throw on when I want a story running in the background of monotonous daily tasks. 

I recently watched (i.e. worked through) an episode where trauma surgeon Owen Hunt sat in a therapist’s office, sorting through a slew of PTSD symptoms. 

In one particularly striking scene, Owen describes the onslaught of shameful feelings he’s been carrying for years, saying this out loud for the first time ever. 

He describes the shame—a dark, uncomfortable feeling we probably all know well, if we’re honest—and hangs his head down, angry, bitter, and embarrassed. 

“That’s a good start,” his counselor says. 

Shocked and taken aback, Owen shoots back honestly, “How is that good?”

What his counselor says next struck me profoundly enough that I’m here, sharing it with you today. 

“It’s a start. You have to name how you feel before you can navigate to somewhere better,” she exclaims, excited for his breakthrough.

You have to name how you feel before you can navigate to somewhere better. 

How often do I stumble through my days without checking in on myself, not understanding or naming the exhaustion, shame, fear, stress, or insecurity I feel?

In the Christian faith, we talk so much about checking in with God through prayer. And rightly so. Prayer changes everything. 

But how often do we check in with ourselves? How often are we taking inventory of our internal landscape, our racing thoughts, our heart’s desires? And may I ask… If we’re not naming these things, how can we bring them to God at all? 

I’m deeply convicted that God wants us to be emotionally healthy humans, committed to taking care of ourselves. And I’ve found that when I’m not aware of what’s happening inside of me, my relationship with both myself and God starts to feel thin, frail, and hollow. 

I want a faith that’s honest, pure, and constant—my everything. And I want a relationship with myself that is kind, nurturing, and aware, too. What good is it to be unkind to myself when I feel something uncomfortable (i.e. shame or insecurity) instead of supporting myself through it and seeking understanding? 

I have to name how I feel before I can navigate to somewhere better.

Being a human in this world brings such a wide range of experiences. We face so many emotions as we make our way toward Heaven in an almost-but-not-yet reality (this book is super helpful for naming them!). And as with any gift, ability, or resource God gives me, I want to be responsible for my emotions. 

Taking inventory. 
Getting curious. 
Harboring awareness. 
Untangling twisted threads. 

Not shoving them down or dismissing them as unimportant, insignificant, or unwelcome. God gave us the gift of feeling, after all! We feel because He first felt.

God is not overwhelmed by my emotions, even when I am. He wants to unpack and wrestle through them together. 

But first, we must name them before we can navigate to somewhere better.

Here’s to emotionally honest living and being willing to name where we’re at. Day by day, grace upon grace. xo

______________________________

You may also like:

— Thoughts On Growing Up
— Caring for Every Part of Us: It’s All Connected
— On the Hop of Healing
— Atlas of the Heart by Brene Brown is such an incredible tool for our emotional health. Sometimes even knowing how to describe our feelings is hard. This helps.

Making Life Brighter Lately:

— I’m adding this piece to a small gallery wall in our coffee nook, and I couldn’t be more excited to hang it all up! I also made this to go along with it, using our monogrammed cocktail napkins from our wedding reception, and found this lamp to add a little ambiance. Will share pics when it’s all said and done!

—  The end of the month is here, and on the theme of naming how we’re doing, I’m filling out my September Delight Diary. You can grab your free copy here to take note of what was good, hard, fun, and more this month. Join me!

— I used to think the hardest part of writing was sharing my work and being willing to be seen. Now I know it’s actually this.