Oh my gosh, I used to be so good about this.
The day would break and there would be words in my head that were flowing from my heart. Words that longed to break out and be heard, seen, read. I felt full with them. Like water against a dam, bearing down. Insistent and roaring.
These words. They came together easily and quickly, filling the expanse of plain white screen with all I was feeling and all I was seeing and all of the truths I believed I knew deep down. Truths deeply rooted. Truths needed by me and by my village.
But wait, it’s not that I thought I knew things. It’s not that at all.
I just thought maybe people were slogging through the same kinds of messes I was. That people maybe could relate to the minutiae of my struggles. That maybe my struggle, my successes, my story could be of some help. Some camaraderie. Some, ‘you’re not alone in this’. The day to day of being mom, being wife, being friend, being daughter, just being. The day to day of chronic pain. Of healing and seeking and wondering and weeping.
But then my words got stuck somehow.
No more flowing like a rushing river, the words slowed to a trickling little stream. Eventually, the blockage grew until they were only coming out in bursts of hysteria and sorrow. No time or energy to put them on the page. No feeling of truths planted deep.
Just a fierce burst and then a fiercer patching up.
It started with disappointment. Disappointment like a tarry black ball that stuck in my throat. Words would rise up against it but disappointment knocked them down again. Truths spoke up but Disappointment dug in, tarry hands grasping, holding tight.
Then Comparison. Comparison sneaks in, tiny fingers of Discontent and Restlessness and Impatience and that sense of This is Not Fair, it sneaks in and steals what space could be found.
And at the center of that sticky, unctuous, black ball … anger. Anger grows so fast, before you even realize it’s happening, tendrils of it are all through you, clinging to walls and organs and soul. Anger silenced my words and the truths that I once knew.
The words back down. They quiet themselves and even hibernate. An anesthetizing comes. Apathy that maybe the words that once refused to be silenced just aren’t worth saying, aren’t worth writing.
Suddenly it’s been ages since I wrote a word.
And here we are.
I’m Chris and I have some words to say.
It’s been a hard, hard season. It’s been a time of disappointment, anger, sorrow, grief, even rage. It’s been a time of confusion and weakness and even shame, but I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’m not.
And I don’t even know where I am with everything right now.
I just know that I miss my words and I’m not a fan of this junk that’s blocking them.
So. Again I say, here we are.
When I was younger in my faith and going through some things, I would center myself with five Things I knew for sure.
I don’t think my Things are the same as they once were and that is okay. It’s all an ebb and flow. I am resting in what I do know and the rest will follow. Or not.
I don’t know anymore. I think that’s part of the point. We don’t always get to know. We don’t always get a Blessed Assurance, a guarantee, an absolute answer. There’s no roadmap or list of instructions for success.
There’s just this.
God is love.
God loves me.
And that’s about as far as I’ve gotten.
We’ll see what tomorrow brings.