Whenever I blog, there are two main thoughts I have after I have hit publish, or before I delete the entire work. One, have I over shared? Am I at risk of putting myself way too much out there? Does it seem like I'm too into myself and my life? And two, is this my story to share and is now the time to share it? Can I do justice to this story, or is it best left buried? Is it lost treasure there in the ground, or is it just really a pile of garbage that needs to be buried and disintegrate back into dirt?
Maybe this doesn't resonate with you. That's fine. Anne Lamott so aptly describes this whole battle of the worth of one's writing---is it something worth keeping, what will people say, should I even share, don't tear me apart in the sharing....anyone who has written knows that a writer usually has some sort of feelings attached to their work. In other words, it takes a special friend to share the writing with. Not everyone will be able to give feedback that the writer can take, process, and become better from. One night I will write something that moves me to tears, and the next day, show it to someone else who does not see what I see. It is like letting a deer run in the forest during hunting season hoping that the hunters don't shoot.
This is one of the reasons I haven't written here so long. I haven't known what to write. And when I have known what I've wanted to write, I've felt the timing hasn't been right, or the story hasn't been mine to share. Some of it may be better left for now.
There are situations we walk through in life that make us change. The vulnerability we feel during these times can only be shared with some people. It makes us human, yes, but at the same time, it makes one feel completely and utterly exposed. Brene Brown talks about this in her book, Daring Greatly. When she went on stage to share that TED talk, she almost wanted to talk herself out of it because she felt 'naked' (her own words) before so many people.
I will say this---in the last two years, I've run the gamut of sadness, anger, tiredness. Of pain and release. Forgiveness. But I haven't known how to blog about the real as I've walked through it because I've been busy just trying to survive. I'd like to say that I've come out of that season, that it is done with. But the honest truth is I'm not sure I'll heal from that season. If Jesus still bears in His body the scars, can I not be expected to also have some scars? I want the healing. I want it now, and for it not to hurt anymore. Pulling against that is the balance, the strength of His love for me and that I am held.
He's still writing my story. That's the balance. He can be trusted with the segments that I'd rather rewrite to come out more nicely. He can deal with my messy. He loves me. That is enough.
Are you walking through a hard patch, friend, where words go silent?
Take heart. He loves you. He can deal with your messy, too.