I believed I had nothing to offer the world.

I believed I was a a failure because I couldn’t live up to so many expectations.

I believed all that nothing was what kept me from taking care of myself.

Funny thing is…

all that nothing means everything.

It was pain.
It was loss.
It was survival.
It was experience.
It was compassion.
It was wisdom earned the hard way.

And all that “nothing” turned out to mean everything.

I have survived things that many people never have to face:

  • abuse
  • addiction
  • disability
  • chronic pain
  • financial hardship
  • loss of relationships
  • starting over repeatedly

None of those things are my identity. But they have given me something to bring to the table.

Not because suffering is good.

But because I survived it all, it taught me things a person can go through yet still continue to get back up to keep moving forward.

“I thought I had nothing. But the nothing I carried was actually everything.”

 

Reflections

Do you think you have nothing left to bring to the table?

Have you lost so much energy that you wonder if you have anything left to offer?

Have you ever wondered if it’s time to hang up your hat?

Do you see yourself—or others—as failures because life didn’t go the way it was supposed to?

Do you look at your life and think your best years are behind you?

Have you ever stopped long enough to wonder why you or a person looks tired, withdrawn, angry, addicted, overwhelmed, or defeated?

Can a person make mistakes and still be worthy of participating in their own life?

Have you considered that life gets lifey—and for some, the weight they carry is far heavier than we can see?

What if the story isn’t that they have nothing to offer?

What if we simply haven’t seen everything they have carried?

What if all of this isn’t true?

“Funny thing is, all that nothing means everything.”

 

What If There Is More Left?

If these questions made you stop and think, you are not alone.

Many people have begun to believe that their value is behind them, that their mistakes define them, or that life has taken too much for them to have anything meaningful left to offer.

The Coin We Hold Retreat explores a different possibility.

What if your worth was never determined by your circumstances?

What if the wear and tear of life changed your appearance but not your value?

What if there is still more ahead of you than you realize?