Fridays we stop thinking so much about what we're writing and instead focus on the fact that we're writing. I love this community and how we leave bravery all over the internet. Won't you join us?
It's a choice I make every day. The one that has me bending low and laying down. Opening my palms in a willing benediction to all that God has planned for me. Yet this willing comes with scraped knees and broken tears that fall in silence as I wrestle with those parts of me that I wish I could bury and bury deep.
It's hard when your story is not full of Pollyanna tales and when memories stir the uncomfortable and your grip on what feels sane loosens to a whirlwind of emotions that swirl and churn and turn up the long buried. And yet, every day I bend over keys and pound out my heart. My fingers tapping on keys; a steady tattoo, a beating of surrender and I find myself willing to go to places I never thought I'd visit.
And there are days when I ask myself why, when I wonder if trading the willing for stubborn would bring more peace and less fear. So, I distract myself with the innocuous and inane, I allow myself to be led by the things that don't require a sacrifice. But distraction just wears the mask of fear and fills in the cracks that are starting to bleed light.
So I push through, move forward, all the while laying low in surrender because hurting needs light to heal and willing hearts need courage to continue to beat with faith and hope.
My hope is built on nothing less than
Jesus' blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
but wholly trust in Jesus' name.
On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.
When darkness veils His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale
My anchor holds within the veil.