Blogging is much more difficult than I expected.
And not for the reasons that I anticipated.
When I write, I like to write in a circle. I want to make a point and then come back to it, with a flow that makes sense from beginning to end. Isn’t that the best way to write? Writing that follows this pattern is certainly the most meaningful to read.
And I want to write words that offer
encouragement, understanding and empathy.
I want to instill hope, peace and inspiration.
So, I sit.
How do I start?
What do I say?
How to I finish?
How do I keep from rambling?
How do I make this make sense?
Lately, there have been several many difficult conversations in my life. Some are within my head. Some are with those around me. They begin with difficult situations. Life is full of them. But, there are seasons when there are more than others. This is one of those seasons.
I’ve never been one to ask God “Why?” I guess I just figure that He knows what is best. I don’t have to like it or understand it for it to be true.
I have always felt a great need to “help.” It’s difficult to see any situation and NOT offer help. This has not always been beneficial to my family, especially since others in my family don’t feel this gnawing desire. Some of my family members don’t like to help much at all … so my stepping away from home to take a meal or babysit or give a ride is viewed as irritating to them. So, I find myself asking God to help me rest in Him and know what I should do for others and what I should not. I want to be the best wife and mom that I can be.
I bet it really began for me when Steven Curtis Chapman’s daughter, Maria, was killed in May of last year. I don’t even know him or his family, but I was in shock. I felt numb. I was sad. I cried. I ached for Steven and his wife. I ached for their children. It may have been much more real to me because I had just a week or two prior, stumbled upon his blog and watched the videos from their family vacation with Maria. And then she was gone.
Most recently, I have a friend who is on her death bed … or her miracle bed ….. depending on which God choses it to be. I know of many marriages around me that are crumbling, disintegrating ….. falling to pieces as I write. There are bodies that are being injured by chemotherapy in order to kill cancer that those lives might ultimately be saved. There are children of friends and at church who are sick.
And I ask God, “What can I do to help them?”
And I want to write about it all, but what to say
that might offer help and encouragement.
It’s a tough place
to write without revealing details that embarrass others.
It’s hard to tell our stories
without them overlapping into the lives of others involved.
But, it’s important that we share
because when we tell our stories
those that read know
they aren’t alone.
Everybody has messes. All of us have struggles. None of us is without difficulty.
If you’re going through a difficult time, I hope you’ll find encouragement in my words
as I wander through this mine field that is life
and try to offer encouragement by sharing my own mayhem.