Catching Your Breath

by Steve Austin

  Yes, life beats us down, disappoints us, shocks us, makes us angry, and even leaves us feeling hopeless at times. This is why self-care is so important. We must intentionally carve out time to care for ourselves, so that we can handle the chaos of life. And I wonder if that’s what Jesus meant when he finished his statement in John 16:33, “Take heart, I’ve overcome the world.” What if that overcoming happens as we shift our mindsets and learn to love ourselves? Because it sure seems like it has for me.

  Please learn from my experience. I’m a real guy who has walked through a living hell and has come out on the other side. I refuse to skirt the details of my story or pretend that life stops being hard once you’re on the path from chaos to calm. Instead, I want you to know that a lifestyle of self-care can carry you through the hardest times. I’ve hit rock bottom and lived to tell about it. And even if you’re nowhere near rock bottom, taking care of yourself is a necessary part of daily life. It will keep you holding on when everything else seems like too much.

  Eleven:

  Watching Porn With Nanny

  We must build our arks with love and ride out the storm with courage and know that the little sprig of green in the dove’s mouth betokens a reality beyond the storm more precious than the likes of us can imagine.

  —Frederick Buechner32

  When I was in high school, I would drive over to Nanny and Boss’s house in the country for Friday movie nights. It was pure heaven. Boss would cook banana pancakes or everything-but-the-kitchen-sink spaghetti. We watched these terribly fantastic B-movies like Attack of the Killer Leeches, Swamp Thing, Animal House, and Porky’s.

  After I moved to Lee University, I called and talked to Nanny and Boss several times a week. And I still made the three-hour drive home once a month to continue our movie night tradition. For several weeks, Nanny started telling me about this wonderful song called “Let the River Run.” It played near the end of Working Girl33 and she and Boss loved the music. They couldn’t wait for me to hear the song the next time I was down for movie night.

  From the time I got to their house, Nanny started warning me, “Now Stevie—there’s this one little racy part that I’ll need to fast-forward through, but don’t worry. I’ve got the remote ready.” She must have warned me ten times before we ever turned the movie on.

  Once the movie started, Nanny was obviously nervous. Now, Nanny is not the most tech-savvy grandma in the South and she had an itchy trigger finger. She must have jumped to fast-forward the movie 27 times before we got to the scandalous scene. And then everything fell apart.

  Suddenly, Nanny’s trigger finger malfunctioned. Melanie Griffith was the working girl, and Alec Baldwin was getting worked. On screen. In explicit detail. Yeah, this movie was definitely rated R. Melanie Griffith’s character looked much more like a rodeo cowgirl than a secretary. Got the image? You’re welcome.

  Nanny freaked the eff out. My sweet, saintly grandma started gasping and stammering and pressing every button on that remote control except fast-forward. When her fingers stopped mashing the buttons, they didn’t stop the film. Instead, they landed on the pause button. There was nothing left to the imagination.

  Nanny was in full-blown panic mode by this time, growling and stuttering and flushing a deeper blush than I’d ever seen. I had NEVER heard my grandfather laugh so hard. He was laid back in his recliner and I thought he might stop breathing.

  In a desperate, last-ditch effort to protect her precious grandson (she probably still thinks I’m a virgin, even after a decade of marriage and two kids), Nanny started pressing buttons again. She managed to hit rewind, and I heard a soft whisper: “Well, shit.” I couldn’t believe my ears. Nanny had never sworn in my presence.

  But sure enough, she said it again. “Shit.” And then louder. “Shit. SHIT. SHIT!!!”

  Again, she thought pressing buttons would fix it. So she pressed play. And the scene started over.

  I nearly fell off the couch and peed my pants as a grown-ass man. I couldn’t breathe. In the best possible way.

  By this time, poor Nanny was so flustered that she threw her hands up in the air and joined Boss and me in uproarious laughter. We sat and watched the entire scene at regular speed. Together. Me and my grandparents. Watching softcore porn.

  I had never laughed so hard.

  The Sky is Falling

  Sometimes, everything falls apart and you find yourself somewhere you never thought you’d be. Maybe you’re not accidentally watching porn with your grandma. It might not be as funny as the time my mom innocently tried to sign GOOD MORNING to a deaf lady from church, but instead told her to SHOVE IT. (My family gives me plenty of reasons to laugh.)

  Sometimes, like my mom, we make all these grand plans. We do the work, just like she practiced all week to be able to say hello to the sweet deaf lady. Everything can be rolling along just great as you try to do what’s right or kind or wise. And things can still fall apart.

  As you near the end of this book, know this: you can do all the work, follow all the suggestions, center yourself, meditate, exercise, connect with whatever type of everyday spirituality works for you, have a great support system, take your meds, and sometimes things will still fall apart. Sometimes, all the preparation in the world can’t keep the sky from falling.

  It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. Even the most spiritual people face the darkness. I know powerful and influential leaders who have felt crippled by stress and crushed by loss and shame. I think about Kay Warren, co-founder of Saddleback Church. Even though her husband has been touted as “America’s Pastor,” she’s shared her brokenness as a mom who lost her precious son Matthew to suicide. Talking with Kay, I realized she and Rick had done everything they could for Matthew. They fought hard for him but still lost him. She told me, “There are parts of me that will never be completely healed.”34

  We’ve talked about how life is really hard sometimes and how crucial self-care is when you’re walking through tragedy. In those moments, we come to know what Kay meant about never being completely healed. Some part may always carry the pain. But it’s not a death sentence. It’s an invitation to keep holding on. When things fall apart, as the waters of chaos churn all around us, there are four things we need to hold onto: hope, messy grace, love, and each other.

  Hope

  Before I started the recovery process six years ago, I considered driving my truck into the overpass countless times. There were days I drank, not for enjoyment, but out of desperation to numb the pain and anxiety. I know what it’s like to write suicide notes. I can tell you about hopelessness.

  Emily Dickinson said, “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul,”35 but where is it when you’ve been blinded by disappointment, personal failure, or trauma? Where is hope when you believe, in the pit of your stomach, this will never get better? Where is your wishing star when the pain is so real that you can hardly imagine a miracle?

  Hope is coming.

  Hope is the resting place for abandoned wives and failed ministers. Hope is the dance floor for shattered dreams, long-since deferred. Hope is a promise that better days are coming.

  Hope is the strength of an abuse survivor who finds courage to get the hell out. Hope is the endurance of a single mother who works a day job, goes to night school, and loves her children the best way she knows how. Hope is the wisdom of picking up a book that feeds your soul or calling a friend who can see the light you currently can’t. Hope bends under the weight of chaos, but it doesn’t break.

  Hope is a gritting of the teeth,

  a furrowing of the brows,

  and a digging in of heels.

  Hope is an anchor.

  Storms suck. You get beat up, tossed around, and left wondering what in the world just happened. But the hope that better days are coming steadies me when seas swell and I am tumbled to and fro by waves of chaos. Hope might have feathers, bu
t I think it’s also the thing with claws that dig in when times are tough. It’s wild-eyed and holds on because it is convinced that things will get better. Hope has lived through some crazy shit and knows that life sometimes just plain sucks. But Hope has been around long enough to know that things will get better. Hope is a stubborn refusal to give up on the promise that good days will come again.

  Let me say it once more for the folks in the back: Good days will come again.

  In time, the immediate and devastating chaos will subside and you’ll be able to live in the present moment again. You’ll even begin to look forward to what life brings your way. Better days are coming. Even if the present day feels like it might destroy you, hold on.

  Like the tides of the ocean, Joy has washed over me when the hard days finally pass. That will happen for you, too. While we wait, Hope is both the anchor in the waves and the knot at the end of the rope to which we desperately cling. Joy is the message and Hope is the messenger. Hope washes in and out, like the ocean against my toes that cold New Year’s weekend, reminding us again of the rhythm and the rhyme. All of life expands and contracts. We exhale—we lose our breath—but it always comes back with the inhale.

  If you’re stuck in the middle of a mess right now, I pray you hear the voice of Hope. That same voice has been whispering for eons, “Joy is coming.” I can’t promise when Joy will show up on your doorstep and the weeping will stop. But I know it always has for me.

  I have to believe Joy will come again for you. And in Her arms, messy Grace.

  Messy Grace

  Life is messy. Parenting is messy. Recovery is messy. Just being a human means we’re going to have to deal with some mess from time to time. But Grace is messy, too. And part of holding on means allowing Grace to embrace you, right in the midst of the mess.

  Where do you see grace in your daily life? What words have been a balm for your soul? What song has lifted you from the mire? What image has caused your soul to dance? What I am most thankful for today is daily, tangible grace: the power of a second chance (or third, or fourth, or as many as it takes). The strength to get up and try again when Mike the Inner Critic is tearing you a new one. The compassion to let yourself off the hook when you feel like you’ve screwed up. It’s all Grace, friend.

  We are a seed, each one of us, capable of growing into something beautiful & powerful, able to impact the world with greatness. But sometimes that seed is covered with a lot of crap. Grace helps us dig through that crap, get silent, listen to our hearts, and discover the truth of our being: anything is possible. That’s not some ridiculous motivational speech—it’s the truth.

  Extending Messy Grace to ourselves means we stop listening to lies that limit us. Instead, we dig deep to create a brand-new reality where we are cared for, accepted, and receive compassion. We’re not just striving and surviving, but struggling to do our very-freakin-best to leave a mark on this old cold world. So give yourself an extra dose of Messy Grace today. Speak kindly to your soul. Try a little tenderness with yourself. Remember that everyone (including you) deserves another chance.

  And everyone deserves Love.

  Love

  Dogma, doctrine, theology—Divine Love surpasses it all. What if Love was our entire theology, regardless of labels like atheist or Christian or whatever? What if the goal of our lives was to live and love as much as humanly possible? That’s what I embrace about following Jesus. What if we listen to those who aren’t exactly like us, with the goal of learning so that we can love better? What if Love was the goal?

  “Love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God...for God is love.”

  —1 John 4:7-8, NIV

  God is Love. But what does that even mean? One of the ways to better understand the nature of God is to better understand the nature of Love.

  Love isn’t only poetry; it is deeper than romance. Love doesn’t care about your level of education. Love ain’t concerned with grammar or syntax. Love’s agenda isn’t the exegesis of Scripture or the rightness of your theology. No one holds the corner market on Love.

  Divine Love is stubborn AF and always in your corner. It doesn’t care how many people you’ve “gotten saved,” about your tax returns, or how many times you’ve dropped the ball. Love isn’t counting your mistakes.

  Love doesn’t give a damn about what we say unless our actions match. Love isn’t interested in our belief systems or spiritual laws, but always seeking to quietly out-serve the other.

  Holding onto Love means finding it within yourself first. It is valuing relationship over everything else: relationship with yourself, with the Divine, with your people. It’s investing in practices, places, and people that make you feel safe and accepted. It doesn’t matter if it’s a church or a gay bar, a synagogue or a roller-derby: hold onto the deep, safe, generous Love you find, wherever you find it.

  Love is harmony. Love is the resting place between the notes that gives you time to catch your breath. And we need Love to hold onto each other.

  Each Other

  It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the darkness of human nature. Social media and cable news are full of discord. On bad days, it’s enough to make us believe no one will ever understand us. We are too easily polarized by differences and paralyzed by fear. So we have to let go of the pseudo-community of social media. We have to find our tribe and hold onto our real people.

  Finding a tribe is like building a puzzle. Separated, each tiny part of the whole doesn’t make much sense. It’s exciting to find a match for a single piece and realize it’s not alone anymore. Still, it doesn’t reveal much of the 1,000-part masterpiece, even when two or three pieces fit together. The big picture only starts to become clear as we continue to collaborate, connecting piece after piece.

  When I look in the mirror, I see just one piece of God. We need each other for the Divine to make sense, just like we need each puzzle piece to see the picture. As we embrace the richness of our various colors and flavors in community, our collective soul sighs, “This is good.”

  In his book, You are Here, Thich Nhat Hanh says:

  To me, the definition of hell is simple. It is a place where there is no understanding and no compassion. We have all been to hell. We are acquainted with hell’s heat, and we know that hell is in need of compassion. If there is compassion, then hell ceases to be hell.36

  And don’t we know what that’s like? We thrive on relationship and desperately need each other. We’re all wishing for someone to glance our way, offer a smile of solidarity, and acknowledge that we are doing our very best. And when we experience that simple compassion, don’t the fires of chaos die down?

  So, who loves you unconditionally and puts up with your trauma and drama? Do they also tell you the truth, even when it’s uncomfortable? Who encourages you and allows you to vent, but cares enough about you to help you see a different perspective? Who are your safe people?

  Hold onto your tribe, both when you’re experiencing chaos and when you can share a little calm. We create space for belonging within ourselves and space at the table for others. As we embrace a life of Messy Grace, we are doing the transformative work of creating heaven where there has previously been hell.

  Keep Holding On

  If you’re in a rough patch and it feels like nothing is working, let me remind you one last time: hard times come and go, just like the tides. Sometimes shitty days turn into shitty weeks and months, but they don’t last forever. Chaos says, “What goes up won’t stay there long.” Calm shouts back when we’re shaky-scared, “But what goes down must come up.” Chaos shows up, but it won’t be too long before calm pushes it back. When bad news arrives, take a deep breath and look back on all the bad news you’ve already lived through. You are stronger than you think.

  So keep hoping. Keep holding on when life serves up a shit sandwich. When Mike the Inner Critic starts running his dirty little mouth, keep tru
sting that better days are coming. Keep looking for goodness and beauty. Keep your eyes peeled for Love to show up. Sooner or later, it will. Eventually, the tide will recede, the waters will calm, and you will have gained new strength and new wisdom for the journey.

  The world groans under the weight of its own brokenness, but Hope keeps holding on. In the midst of hell breaking loose in our personal lives, we are the keepers of our inner peace. We might be heartbroken, but wild-eyed Hope digs her claws in, confident that life will get better. One day, our waiting will be worth it.

  Sometimes chaos still shows up for me. But mindfulness, self-care, silencing the inner critic, embracing everyday spirituality, and being frugal with my Give a Damns have allowed my life to blossom in ways I never imagined. Life isn’t always comfortable, but I have the tools to get through the pain. I’m not silly enough to think there won’t be more thorny patches along my path, but I know that there will be blossoms, too.

  In the dark Valley of the Overwhelmed, the shadows loom, the wind howls, and the rains come. But keep on walking. One step at a time. Crawl if you have to. Because just around the bend, if you remain patient and determined, you’ll find the air is turning clear and crisp again. Catch your breath: you don’t have to be overwhelmed any longer.

  Steve Austin

  About The Author

  Steve Austin was a pastor when he nearly died by suicide. A second chance, a grueling recovery, and years of honest conversation allowed Steve to find healing and purpose. It’s evident in his writing, speaking, podcasting, and coaching: he helps overwhelmed people get their lives back.