Uncategorized, Writing

Flesh and Blood Humanity

I feel the need to write sometimes.  To get it all out, finally, and see it organized neatly on a page.  Sometimes I can, and sometimes that ability eludes me.  A few years ago when I was struggling… in so many ways… it would be so hard to verbalize my pain and emotions.  Writing was easier then, my solace when I couldn’t get it all out (which was the norm).  It would be easier to escape to the written word – rather than face flesh and blood people and tell them my problems and fears and hurts and worries.  It was easier to write my prayers than hear my own voice say them.  In my irrational fear of showing my vulnerable underbelly to the humanity around me, I lumped God into that and feared showing myself to him too.

But God has worked a miracle in my heart the past couple of years.  I am still reserved, I’m still quiet, I still love to write.  I do not think that those will ever change.  They are core to who I am.  But I can share more now.  He has assured me of His love, His design, and His plans.  There is nothing I have to fear from the flesh and blood humanity around me.  I get hurt, I get dirty, I get left behind – and it happens a lot more than I would like.

But when we roll over and are vulnerable with the flesh and blood around us, when we get real with the humanity who share our air and living space, something beautiful happens.  They get real and vulnerable with us.

I write less now and talk more now (or try to, anyway).  I have to say “I’m sorry” more than I used to, because sometimes I actually say enough to be sorry.  I have to start some conversations I don’t want to start (because people are worth it).  But I have deeper relationships now, I have meaningful conversations that involve eye contact and voice inflection, and I have friends I never thought I would have.

I guess that is what happens when God calls a writer to back away from the paper and pen every now and then.

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