The most important post I’ve ever written
The past five days have been the most uncomfortable yet rewarding days I have experienced in a long time—maybe ever.
I debuted “New Dianna,” as I like to call her, on my podcast that carries the same name as this blog. Since 2016, I have been sharing audio devotions in a very scripted format. But I threw away the script and pulled back the curtain on my true self.
Scary stuff. Honestly and truly. Cause, y’all, New Dianna is a little crazy. Ha!
I used to be able to follow a format easily. But not anymore. What was once easy for me before the mini stroke and seizures in 2019 is now difficult.
Painfully so.
And trying to keep up with “Old Dianna,” that previous version of me, has been holding me back from doing the work of the Lord consistently and efficiently. Chasing perfection or a past version of myself is hindering me in so many ways. My therapist, Jen, has been trying to get me to see this for some time now.
Even though I have recorded podcasts since my brain trauma and followed that neat and tidy format with the singsong voice, I cannot tell you how hard it has been. When I kept trying to do that, I would have to read and re-read lines. And though my team has been an amazing help to me, they could not read for me. I had to do that part. I had to figure out how to sound like my old self. It was like trying to wear someone else’s clothing and shoes that were several sizes too big.
Though it’s strange that the shoes technically belong to me, the truth is that the old me is gone. I’ve got to stop chasing Old Dianna. She’s too fast, and I can’t catch up.
Sometimes it would take me hours upon hours to get 20 minutes of usable content for my team to work with. And even then, they would need to do a lot of heavy editing. I have had to practice saying a single word or phrase more than 30 times in a row just to get it to come out right.
Talk about stressful and discouraging!
It was just too much, y’all. Plain old exhausting trying to keep up an image. And I just don’t believe God can bless who I pretend to be. I must allow Him to bless who I truly am.
I had to ask myself, who are you doing this for, Dianna? Because God doesn’t require me to put on a show. He didn’t ask me to be perfect. And He never commanded me to try to be the old version of myself.
But I believe He had to allow me to come to this place on my own after I had worn myself out and frustrated myself to no end. Today I’m emotionally ready to close that old chapter. And while it’s sad to say goodbye, it’s necessary, because holding on keeps me pulled in two directions. And that’s not healthy for me mentally, spiritually, or emotionally.
This August will mark three years since the life-changing incident, and it has taken me all this time to release what is behind me.
I pray you can grow with me on this new journey. However, God has already given me permission to do it. And since I have the green light from Him, I am not looking for approval from anyone else.
Even with His approval, though, it has been difficult to change and accept all my new deficiencies. But if I don’t accept them, how can I experience Christ’s all-sufficiency, right?
It’s so crazy because when I sat down to write a devotion today, this was not what I had in mind at all. I didn’t know this was the day for this to happen. And yet, here we are.
It’s time.
Old Dianna served God well, served His people well, served my family well, and served me well. But I must lay Old Dianna to rest and move on now. It was fun while it lasted, and she was an incredible woman. But I am no longer that version of myself, and I want to see what God wants to do with this version of me. I know He’s not through with me yet.
And frankly, I have cried my last tear over Old Dianna and am finally ready to step into a new season of complete honesty, transparency, and realness.
It took a while and a mix of strategies to get me to this place. Prayer, cognitive behavioral therapy, Prozac, and time have worked together to give me this level of clarity and willingness to accept what God has allowed.
And look, if I want to do the will of the Lord, which I desperately do, I must be willing to show up as I am and trust God to use me as He sees fit.
So, when you listen to the “Daily Cup” podcast, buckle up, boo. You’re in for a ride with the much less polished (and a lot more embarrassing) version of me. New Dianna flubs sentences and says and does things that make me want face palm constantly. Because of brain trauma, I routinely blurt things that may be considered edgy, inappropriate, or a little taboo.
But hey, I’m doing the best I can.
Though I’m rough around the edges these days—real rough—I am still more than willing to be used by God, especially to advance the much-needed conversation around mental health in the church.
I can’t lie. I sometimes feel ashamed when my brain misfires. I also find it hard to expose my vulnerable, raw self to my listeners (that I now call my “besties” by the way). But I refuse to go another year pretending.
Nope. Not gonna do it. Not anymore.
God told me to let everyone see what it looks like and sounds like when someone is navigating a traumatic brain injury, post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety, emotional issues, and speech troubles.
If I let the world see my weakness, something beautiful will happen. They will see His strength.
“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me” (2 Corinthians 12:9 NIV).
