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Tuesday, January 4, 2011

I don't know how honest I want to get here. And yet I believe that honesty is what reaches others and what makes us grow. So here we go with more paradoxes. How I can feel so impatient waiting for a snagged moment of writing and yet also feel the fear that floods in when I'm actually accorded this space?

I know that it is other's openness which has impacted me and which has spurred my desire to give of myself in that way as well. Writers like Anne Lamott, Susan E. Isaacs, Henri Nouwen and Ann Voskamp to name only a few who have been willing to share their messy stories, voice their qualms and setbacks. What these authors have taught me exemplify all the reasons I would never want to be preachy or teachy, as they are not. I am merely a student and this is an adventure in attainment for me. What could I possibly provide in my work except an authenticity of who I am and what I daily receive or attempt?

But to bare oneself, especially in this way, through the Internet is a leap for me. I am a person who tends to keep to myself until very comfortable. In fact, I enjoy writing fiction because I can somewhat hide behind my characters. Yes, we all know that authors often incorporate themselves into their stories but it is guess and speculation as to how much of me is in any thing fictional that I write.

Another paradox? I love to be on stage. Love it. But I'm dreadfully shy. Giving a speech in a class would make my knees shake and my hands sweat, but in a play, I'm someone else. The fear is gone and I'm a character with a different life. Do I draw from the truth of who I am to play someone else? I do, but that is not always evident from the audience's view.

So here, in this setting of the blogosphere, I've decided, why bother, if I can't be real. Being real with my readers forces me to be real with myself and with God. And through that eye-opening contemplation that comes with the writing, God then shows me areas of my life that he wants to mold or that He is pleased with or that He wants me to share.

And it is a trust, too, every time I hit the post button, that this is God ordained. That I am doing His will, that it is not merely me but something bigger than me, something coming from obedience which I don't always understand. My mind races with ideas for writing, which is great for an aspiring writer because I am learning how to note things in the world around me that are of interest and of worth but too, when I sit to write, I have to open myself up to what it is He wants me to write, where it is He wants me to go. I have to clear my mind and look away from the screen to let Him dictate His direction. And I never reread my posts once published because from that point on it is in His hands and He will do what he wants with them. I remove myself.

Why even this topic is being revealed here now, I don't know. Maybe it is a precursor into what still will come from me. Or a disclaimer. Maybe I am slowly working myself into the courage to reveal those things which are scary to yield, walking that line between revealing too little and revealing too much.

It's all trust isn't it? That's just about what everything in my life seems to boil down to. Each step, each word, I give back to Him to do with what He will. And in that, I should rest assured. This world is not mine. It is His and thank God, I'm not in charge of it.

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I'm a mother to six beautiful children (three boy, three girls) and married to a wonderful, incredibly patient and loving man. We homeschool and do life together and it's messy and full of grace.