The Need to Write & The Way Things Are

Well. A month or so ago, I had a bit of revelation about myself. I sat under some live oaks, waiting for EG to finish up at a friend's pool-park birthday party. It was past time to pour out my heart on paper - my soul was all twisted up inside. Pulled out my journal. Fished for my pen and started writing. Then the pen ran dry. Oh. Dear. I was surprised by the panic I felt! That's when it hit me:

I feel mute without a pen in my hand in those kinds of moments.

Even from a young age, I was framing up my experiences in carefully thought out sentences mentally, with the intention of writing them down so that I could remember that moment the way it really was.

In the end I found a pen that day. And I wrote and wrote. Ahhh, relief. Putting it on paper is how my thoughts start to make sense to me when they're gnarled up or bottled inside my head. And the journal is the place to document this and that, memories, truths, everything. I don't write every day...just whenever I have a moment, which is very rare, to be true, of late. And it has to be on paper. What I write here has almost always been scribbled in pen somewhere first.

Recently, BB allowed me the chance to escape and be alone for a bit. I knew I'd write. I grabbed my journal, two pens, and a coconut cupcake, for good measure. As I feverishly put words on lines, hand tense from mind moving faster than pen, this came: Maybe I should be typing. But typing feels so clinical sometimes, so not organic. Handwriting, it is so slow. And the pages, they do add up. But manual writing, if you will, limits me to one thought at a time, and boy, do I need that limitation after days surrounded by seven other people's thoughts!

We are in another time of transition, from crazy-crazy summer to school-mode. I'm not handling it so well. It's a good transition, but I keep finding myself all weepy and overwhelmed and paralyzed with indecision over silly little things.

Remember the marathon analogy I kept using, regarding the intense season we've experienced? And how God carried me to the end? I wondered what would be next. What comes after being carried? Then I knew. It's funny, because it's not been my experience in the past to have God give me all these pictures of where He has me (such as the marathon). But here's what He's shown me. That race is over. The calling to chaos is past. He has set me down at a crossroads. In one direction is chaos and in the other is order. Will I walk in faith toward order, trusting Him to show me what that needs to look like, day by day, new habit by new habit, or will I balk there or take what has become the more familiar path, back into craziness?

The real help to me, though, was when He helped me see myself as a newborn fawn. You know how they look when they're born, all helpless and wobbly-legged. But they stand almost immediately, and they walk soon after that. That's me, standing at that crossroads, nervously taking a few wobbly and inexperienced steps toward a new season. But, of course, I don't step alone! This is what Jesus gave me next...

He makes my feet like the feet of a deer; 

He enables me to stand on the heights. 

2 Samuel 22:34

The Sovereign LORD is my strength;
   He makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
   He enables me to go on the heights. 

Habakkuk 3:19

He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;
   He enables me to stand on the heights.

Psalm 18:33

You broaden the path beneath me,
   so that my ankles do not turn.

2 Samuel 22:37

  

But I prayed, “Now strengthen my hands." Nehemiah 6:9

I've felt so off-balance and disoriented lately, but there's no crisis here. I feel like there is, but in truth, there isn't. Whew, good thing! It's not the first time in my life when a transition has thrown me in a big way.

There's much on my heart I'd love to spill out here, but time doesn't allow it today.

One thing I will say is this: my husband has captured my heart completely. Oh, he already had it, of course, but his patience and sensitivity toward me in all this has been lavish, sweet healing to my heart, hope-giving. Grace. He has sacrificed time and his to-do list so that I could be alone here and there, allowing me to write and think. He's very kindly reminded me to believe God; to believe what I've heard Him say to me about the passing of one season, the birthing of a new one, and to take those wobbly steps of faith.

We celebrated 12 years of marriage yesterday. I love him so much more as time passes. What a privilege to walk through life with this man. How glad I am to have him by my side to face these struggles together, and the happy times too.

We said a sad goodbye to BB's mom, sister, and her babies yesterday. Friday, we welcome more family! And Monday, we take to the skies, as I get to tag along on his business trip. It's the first time in many, many years that I've had such a wonderful opportunity!

I'm going take a break from blogging for a short time. I love to write here, but at the moment there's almost no time to think (because my little brain is consumed with adjusting to what will be our new normal!), much less time to write - on paper or on screen.

I hope to write the big mercies post while I'm away with BB, but we'll see. 

Thanks so much for coming here. It's precious to me that people take the time to stop and visit! The Lord bless you and keep you...
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And just for my own memory's sake...that closed journal pictured above...that's the Summer 2011 Calling to Chaos journal. It's June 1- August 31, basically. It was special to have a new one waiting to be started, right here at such a meaningful turning point in life.