i have words and sit to write about the narrative running lately thru my mind, heart and days.
but when i come to the keyboard they vanish like birds chirping as they fly away; ‘catch me if you can’
is the state of the blog.
i have been honestly questioning what wisdom there is in putting my journal out in the world rather than simply living among those in my real time and space.
and anyway, lately the journal has been a slow weave. thread upon thread cast onto the story line of my life, yet the shape of what is being made remains a mystery.
the daily obediences, the showing up to where the Lord has me, the not showing up to where the Lord is withholding, the constant wondering if i actually have all that backwords.
and then there is the practical side of being in a season where i am rarely, if ever, alone in my little house-even the writing of this post has met numerous interruptions. if i find myself resenting the life of the people sharing my roof, well is it worth it? if all i can do is start a thought and not finish it, should i even bother attempting to form words that anyone, besides the One who has searched me and knows me, could understand?
but there are some who have said they miss my words. and i have had a desire to commit to the practice of writing again. practice in the sense of a 6th grade violin player moving the bow on the C string again and again and again. then adding in the D for a time. eventually coming out into the kitchen to play for his mom hot cross buns.
i can’t say that i will publish the single notes from the daily writing practice. but the occasional hot cross buns may show up here from time to time.
below is today’s song……
the snow falls gently. i glance up and out my window to the houses lined up like a row of sleeping children tucked away back when large families shared the same bed.
behind all those doors lie story upon story upon story.
there are names and portions i have come to know. griefs, longings, frustrations, joys, satisfactions, gratitudes.
but that is all. i know my neighbors, yes, but how much have i allowed them to know me? to know my story? to know Who has captured my heart?
this past weekend, i find myself intentionally seeking to share my heart deeply. it’s not the easiest as i’m socially awkward in large gatherings. i know not how to do the small talk. but dumping the depths of my inner dialog on unsuspecting friends and relatives results in lots of blank stares and people looking for a polite exit.
still, the state of the hearts of those i know matters to me. and i’m tired of just gathering together and acting like it doesn’t. so as i find myself in a rare opportunity to catch up with someone i’ve known longer than most anyone, we have enough time to move past the surface and into deeper waters. just as the moment arrives to dive in, an interruption; a child needing tended takes us off course and we never return. it could be another year before i even see this person again. and another five before real conversation takes place.
the failures of yesterday’s Sunday gathering pile up, one upon another upon another. cut to the heart, i feel the weight on my chest, heavy. daunting.
there was so much conforming to the patterns of this world, so much peer pressure, so much standing alone and shrinking back.
we can’t unsee what we’ve seen, can’t undo what we’ve done, can’t go back and do what we failed to do.
as i bow in repentance before the One in whom there is no condemnation my heart is still struck with the implications of my sin. we wrestle a bit, He and i. the cost of my forgiveness isn’t lost on me. nor is the cost of my sin.
He sends a bit of fire, coupled with the opportunity to demonstrate repentance before the ones my sin affected the most. “it won’t be wasted,” whispers the One who works all things for good, “remember-nothing ever is.”
question after question after question fuel the fire- acting as cleansing coals upon these unclean lips:
do i believe what Jesus says about hell?
do i care?
do i see those around me dying and long to ease their suffering?
is He worthy?
will all this darkness stop the light from getting thru?
is anyone able?
to draw further in: Isaiah 59: 9-21; Luke 4: 14-21; Romans 8; Isaiah 6:1-8; Something Needs to Change by David Platt
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