Thursday, January 15, 2015
Sunday, January 11, 2015
Sinking my words.
I used to blog for everyone. I used to pick my words carefully- bouncing them around like a racquetball to see if they would fly back at 100 miles an hour and bruise. I used to share this page with people. I used to be proud of my eloquence; that I had done my due diligence to make this place nice...
But now? Now I'm more jaded. A few more months weathered, and I do not care to share this place anymore. If you've found it- that's fine. Maybe your heart feels as heavy as mine does so often. Maybe you're wordless and adrift. Maybe you're kind. Maybe you're cruel. Maybe, like me, you find yourself caught in the web of both and the gamut of spaces in between.
And if you're here, you are welcome. But you should know that I am far less careful than I used to be. I am far less bright-eyed. I am far more jaded... I have lived in fear, and I have wished for bravery. And recently, I have sought out words in the darkness and my vocabulary has failed me. See, lately, I have been in a season of drought. A season of restlessness. A season of anger and insecurity and fear... a season where words have wounded me far more than they have watered the ground of my soul and given me life.
I am in a season where I am wrestling with the Angels. With God. With spirituality. With a sacred sense of self... I'm not sure who I am right now, where I fit in, or what my purpose is. Even though I know that I know that I know that I have purpose... I'm caught in a sea of wordless panic, and I don't know how to describe who I am, what I feel, or why I'm afraid.
So this morning, at 4am-- when I got up to pee because I'm getting old. I couldn't shut my brain back down as it turned and spun and panicked and feared about tomorrow, and the next day, and the next year, and when will I get married? When will a sense of God return to me? What if I'm just faking? What if I'm not being my whole self? What if I'm 80 and I have regrets? I worry that my vulnerability will turn others away. But I'm afraid that my strength would do the same. What is the balance? Is there balance? Where is God?
So, for today, I'm going to settle. Settle for unanswered questions, for fears unnamed that stir in my spirit, for grace that I believe that I believe that I believe that I have but I'm not sure I know it, and for failing to have the right words sometimes. Sometimes, settling doesn't feel like settling. Sometimes it just feels like letting go... and surrender feels like it might just be a good place to start again.
But now? Now I'm more jaded. A few more months weathered, and I do not care to share this place anymore. If you've found it- that's fine. Maybe your heart feels as heavy as mine does so often. Maybe you're wordless and adrift. Maybe you're kind. Maybe you're cruel. Maybe, like me, you find yourself caught in the web of both and the gamut of spaces in between.
And if you're here, you are welcome. But you should know that I am far less careful than I used to be. I am far less bright-eyed. I am far more jaded... I have lived in fear, and I have wished for bravery. And recently, I have sought out words in the darkness and my vocabulary has failed me. See, lately, I have been in a season of drought. A season of restlessness. A season of anger and insecurity and fear... a season where words have wounded me far more than they have watered the ground of my soul and given me life.
I am in a season where I am wrestling with the Angels. With God. With spirituality. With a sacred sense of self... I'm not sure who I am right now, where I fit in, or what my purpose is. Even though I know that I know that I know that I have purpose... I'm caught in a sea of wordless panic, and I don't know how to describe who I am, what I feel, or why I'm afraid.
So this morning, at 4am-- when I got up to pee because I'm getting old. I couldn't shut my brain back down as it turned and spun and panicked and feared about tomorrow, and the next day, and the next year, and when will I get married? When will a sense of God return to me? What if I'm just faking? What if I'm not being my whole self? What if I'm 80 and I have regrets? I worry that my vulnerability will turn others away. But I'm afraid that my strength would do the same. What is the balance? Is there balance? Where is God?
So, for today, I'm going to settle. Settle for unanswered questions, for fears unnamed that stir in my spirit, for grace that I believe that I believe that I believe that I have but I'm not sure I know it, and for failing to have the right words sometimes. Sometimes, settling doesn't feel like settling. Sometimes it just feels like letting go... and surrender feels like it might just be a good place to start again.
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