new excerpt from “INSEPARABLE”:
We’d always shared a room. Ever since the womb.
Small, tight, woven together – and never apart. Two lives tangled tightly.
From birth to two years, we shared the crib – developed our own language, chattered wildly at each other, and when we slept, we held hands and kept each other close.
From age 2-14 we shared our room – our clothes, our friends, our family, our arguments, our homework, and sometimes our beds – and many of our memories. But not all of them.
At age 14, instead of sharing our dreams, we started sharing secrets – big ones – the kind no one talks about – because you can’t – even when you can. We acted like we didn’t know. Or see. Or hear.
Secrets. Cascading. Deadening. Deafening.
Age 14-18, we separated rooms (our brother graduated and left for college) - the secrets and now the separation creating distance and disconnect.
Upon graduation from high school, we went to different colleges, and continued, deliberately, living separate, yet connected lives. We still knew each other, but not nearly what we shared in our earliest years.
Choices change us.
Secrets keep us stuck.
Until we tell them. Or share them. Or stop shaming ourselves with them.
At age 20, one of my choices was marriage and one of her’s was cocaine.
Thus began the journey of patterns - tides rolled in and out from age 20-34. Some years were “good” and others, my tangled twin would travel far away.
Among these 14 years, Tammy and I shared rooms again – four different times. She lived with my family, sharing months at a time, her wellness, and her desired growth.
But when she chose the destruction again, my husband and I had to kick her out – we had to tell her to go find another room.
But the last time she shared a room with me, the times she allowed freedom to win, the next room she would have, would be her very own - shared with her husband.
She chose health.
It was a long road. Wrecked with fallen trees. Crashing moments. But the whole time – there was still a Steady Breeze.
A Hope Unending that held her still. Even when I, her twin, the one who shared from beginning to end – I no longer could hold her.
I got to trust the Only One Who Could.
With her life.
All our shared moments, and rooms, and memories.
We share our kids. Our hubbies love each other. We share family. Child rearing. Park going. Summer swimming.
We shared a room this weekend as coaches. Leading others to see God’s best – rather than all the reasons why they ‘can’t’.
We share a room of worship – we attend church together, do ministry alongside one another, serve Christ together.
Still – holding hands – lifting them together to The One Who Wove us together in the first place.
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What is a piece of your story you want to tell? And what is your why for telling it? COMMENTS welcomed…