A Letter From My Soul To Yours Today
It’s been 8 weeks ago, since I first came to you with the news.
PTS – Post Traumatic Stress. From childhood trauma.
Memories as I wrote into the belly of my book came alive.
It happened on a mountain as I just finished drafting a chapter in the middle of my manuscript.
I stepped out the door onto a dirt path — and it was there I met my falling — to the ground, choking, heart pounding in terror.
My body awoke my soul that day.
It was time for me to remember.
It was time for me to stop forgetting.
It was time for me to feel the pain.
All those years I lived in survival, God is having me unlearn the ways I’d develop to be strong. To shield myself from any further hurt or betrayal.
God put me on a journey that day — to take out the pieces that have been broken inside me — so that I would never hide them again.
My writing was wrestled away from me. I couldn’t hardly breathe and went from one disorienting insomnia drenched day to the other, my body flushed in hot flashes, as it relived flashbacks of emotional trauma.
I finally reached a point in my healing where I could not go any further.
Unless I wrote afraid.
Like the agoraphobic who struggled to even open the door, much less point her feet forward to touch the doorway, I lunged clumsy and terrified onto my blog, to write to you that day.
I told you that you changed my story forever the week after.
You didn’t turn away as I knew for certain in my heart you’d do.
Instead, you covered me with your compassion as I stood bare with my emotions before you.
You wrote to me as I stood in the darkness of uncertainty. And you told me you understood what it’s like to touch that place of empty, mingled with a desperation for hope and acceptance.
You heard me, as I spoke so hesitantly in my full voice.
And now, I’m standing here this week.
It’s time for me to walk out further from the safety of my home here with you — this blog.
It’s time for me to open the door, to take my steps past the mailbox, out past the curb of this blog.
It’s time for me to sit at my desk, open up a blank screen and start typing words that will hopefully lead to sentences — that will hopefully then lead to paragraphs — to chapters — and then a book.
It’s a good thing, what you’ve done for me.
You’ve allowed me to speak this far — here on the blog — in my full voice.
Starting this week, I will uncover my soul and ask it ever so gently to start speaking in that full voice, so that I can write a book for Jesus.
Because of you, I have a chance at seeing how far I will be able to write afraid — in my full voice.
This journey is unpredictable.
I don’t have expectations of needing to finish it.
I just want to try.
Because I want to be free.
Because I don’t want to be afraid any longer.
I will write afraid.
As long as Jesus stays with me.
I’ll keep asking Him to speak my name.
And I’ll rest my heart each time I hear Him calling.
I tell you all this, to say, thank you.
And please pray for me.
Don’t expect me to finish it, friends. Because I couldn’t bear it if I had to carry the burden of not disappointing you.
Because I don’t know if it’s God’s purpose for me to complete the manuscript by the new deadline reset so graciously by the publisher.
My goal isn’t a finish line or a stack of papers in print.
My goal is being faithful to follow Jesus. Even in this way, to write broken. I’m not so sure if it can be done.
This question enters my mind often — whenever I struggle to write, when once it had been so easy. Whenever I start feeling my chest tighten and my throat grows thick with tension, as I work through each blog post.
Whenever I’ve pushed myself too far, by doing too much in a day or had a stressful conversation in a pressured social situation.
When I had to cancel speaking at Allume Conference this year.
When I’m lying sleepless and anxious, even though I feel like I can’t take any more of this “healing”.
I ask why.
I’ve learned that Jesus has chosen not to answer these questions, but I’ve gained something much deeper and more soul healing. Among the tears that don’t seem to have an end, Jesus has cried even more with me. He’s held me tighter than I have ever experienced. I know all these why questions tear at His heart each time I ask Him. Because He wishes I never had to speak them.
Jesus understands my pain and He keeps encircling me back to this place at the keyboard.
His arms rests on my shoulder and He whispers, “Just be with me. Right now. This way.”
And so, I want to tell you — in this long-winded way — I will be offline from hosting our Faith Jam Thursdays for awhile. To try and take this journey of speaking in my full voice one step further — to see if I can finish writing the book-that-would-not-go-away.
It goes without saying, pray for me, as the Spirit brings me to mind.
Pray for courage. To keep following however the path turns.
And give thanks with me, as I do each day, that God has brought us closer to Him and each other through this journey already.
Thank you for being here with me. I’ll be posting, as I can. I’ll be thinking of you and each time I do, I’ll be remembering you with prayer, smiling and thanking Jesus for you and the stories you’re living in Him.
So, I’m just putting my “Will Return” sign here at the Faith Barista Cafe. I’m stepping out for a bit. But I’ll be back.
In His love,
“You are a letter of Christ
written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God,
not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.”
How is God speaking to you in your whitespace? (Whitespace — it’s what I call alone time with Jesus.)
It’s the prompt I’m serving up for today’s Faith Jam conversation.
Will you share among friends here today? Click here to comment. You know I’m smiling from ear to ear, listening.
*** NOW, IT’S YOUR TURN — LINK UP IN THE FAITH JAM
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*Today’s 9/13/12 Writing Prompt: “Spiritual Whitespace”. Take time out to be alone with God and write about it. “whitespace” (Click to read more about what this is.)
*Next Topic* TBD. I’m taking a break to focus all energy on writing my book.
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