I’ve sat down countless times in the past, thinking of the proper words to say to convey my heart, my thoughts, my view of the world. And I always came up…
Maybe I wasn’t sure I had the right topic.
Maybe I wasn’t sure how to piece together the right words to authentically say what I wanted to.
Maybe it was fear.
Fear that my words would be drowned out in a sea of voices.
Fear that my thoughts were watered down – spoken too many ways, too many times before.
Fear that by writing the words on a page, they would be given life.
I’m still not quite sure.
Blogs were given names. Blogs were started. A post or two was written, and then the blog disappeared from my memory as life became too mundane and ordinary to talk about.
Isn’t that the way? We become impassioned about something; we are so fervent in our pursuits, until…? What happens that causes us to cease the love of the thing that once burned like a fire within us?
Maybe it wasn’t so much that my life became routine and tragically boring – no, I don’t think that’s it. I think it’s that I became disillusioned about how life should look for me. I began comparing my talents with that of another sister in Christ and hating what gifts I’d been given; I began feeling bitter that their portion wasn’t my own; I resented that my words and thoughts weren’t presented as eloquently as the words that stared back at me from their pages.
I’ve been given specific talents and gifts – writing is one of them. Instead of rising up and making known the things that God has laid on my heart, I’ve allowed doubt and fear to seep in. I’ve hidden away the words deep in my chest, scared to let them out for fear of rejection, fear of persecution, fear of backlash. More than any of those things though, I was scared to let them out for fear that the truth of them would convict me in my own humanness and depravity.
Logically, I bottled them up and carried on with life. I left my first love behind and the words that He’s given me, too.
So why now? What about this point in time leads me to believe this coming back to will be any different? And the answer is simple:
I’m not the same person.
Over the past several weeks and months, my faith has been tested, shaken, and re-founded. The God that I worshipped has not changed, but He has relentlessly pursued me and continues to change this wretched heart of mine; He continues to prune me of pridefulness, lust, anger, bitterness, and their kin. It’s a painstaking work, and at times I feel the weight of my depravity, but He is faithful to bring His work to completion.
When the moments come that prove to bend me to my point of breaking, I’ve been reminded that His mercies are new every morning, and oh, how my soul clings to that truth.
So, here is a new beginning; a starting point; a clean slate; a fresh, white sheet of paper. A chance to tell the story that my magnificent Creator has been writing of me since the beginning of time – one of pursuit and redemption and grace and mercy and love.
Maybe you’ve just stumbled upon this blog, unsure of what you’ll find. Here’s what I can tell you.
This blog won’t be perfect – it will be honest and messy and raw, all of the things that we’re sometimes too afraid to let out into the light. You will see that in the past posts.
I’ve come to understand that the shadowed, hidden places in our hearts, the places that have covered up the wounds and the scars that have been inflicted by others and inflicted by our own hands, are the reason the light exists. To illuminate them – because light cannot exist without darkness.
So here is to letting in the light – to exposing both the beauty and the pain of this life.
Soli Deo Gloria.
Written on November 22, 2016. Posted on December 24, 2016.