Did you see the movie The Greatest Showman?

If not, run to the nearest Redbox right now and rent it. Better yet, go buy a copy at your local superstore so you can watch it over and over. Or, if you are young enough to stare at me blankly while I talk about my old cassette tapes, just download it.

It is a great movie that was robbed at the awards show. ROBBED! Especially the music. I don’t remember which song won the Oscar for Best Song but it wasn’t “This Is Me” and it so should have been.

Watch any amateur talent show and you’ll see wannabe stars agree. I heard it no less than ten times on reality competitions this season alone.

The song is sung by a group of circus performers, an odd group of misfits put on display for the world to stare. But their hearts are huge and you can’t help but feel their collective pain and determination as they declare that they won’t be broken down for there’s a place for them in this world.

You don’t have to be 2 feet tall or a bearded lady to relate.

We all have those feelings of being bruised and sharp words cutting us down. We all know the fight to keep shame from sinking in and marching on.

You don’t even have to be in a dark place to have those moments.

All it takes is one little setback to feel that round of bullets hitting your skin.

For me, it was a terrible fall. It was a freak thing and a mistake I will never make again. As always, I tried to get just a couple more things done before heading to the bathroom. Soon it became apparent those bladder muscles aren’t as tight after five childbirths and I  sprinted to the bathroom. Unbeknownst to me, my husband had doused it down with Febreze as a favor to me (thanks, hon) and about two feet from the toilet both of my feet came flying out from under me and I landed flat on my back. My right foot hit the trash can, garbage flying everywhere, my head hit the concrete floor that looks like wood. (It may look like wood but it feels very much like concrete btw) My forearms somehow shared the brunt of the fall with my rump. That was a two-edged sword. The extra weight provided a cushion, yet my poor bones had to absorb the shock of what definitely falls on the obese chart in the physician’s office.

It was horrendous.

Nothing was broken so going to the doctor wasn’t an option. I can Google self-help for falls and save myself the charge. I used it as an excuse to read a new novel and watch Hallmark Christmas movies. I called that my silver lining.

But it wasn’t easy.

I did have to fight the devil constantly whispering that only pain medicine would make it better. (That would be like an alcoholic having just one drink because it was the holidays. It’s never just one.)

I moaned and groaned because I don’t do “feeling bad” very well.

Yet I refused to give in.

On Day 2, I made myself get dressed (lipstick and all) and go into town.

By Day 3, I found myself singing:

I won’t let them break me down to dust….Look out cause here I come…

The pain is slowly subsiding but it did not win. All of those battles lost seem insignificant when you know you are on the team that wins the war.

But my Savior isn’t P.T. Barnum; it’s Jesus Christ.

Because of Him, I can make it through anything.

I can do ALL THINGS through Christ, which strengtheneth me. Phillipians 4:13.