When people ask if I have been able to write during this season, I answer that I have not had time to write. The truth is, I have not wanted to write.
My writing has always come from my heart, and right now, my heart throbs with pain that leaves seems to abate only to slam me so intensely that it knocks me to my knees.
A few weeks ago I created a new blog, I Really am Okay. I debated whether to simply place those posts here or not, but I decided it was a specialized blog for a particular population and the posts would be more useful if they were together instead of being linked by tags throughout my general blog. Amazing how easy it is to lie...especially to oneself.
The truth is I didn't want those posts here because this is my "writing blog". This is the blog where posts come in ribbons and bows and a nice concluding sentence that wraps everything up in a "God is so good and I'm so blessed" happy thought. It's the places where answers are found and God is glorified and...I look like I have it together.
But right now, I have few answers and a lot of questions, and while I feel blessed, I also feel broken. And "having it together" often means I don't sob where people can see or hear.
And, honestly, it doesn't feel okay.
It feels surreal most of the time and painful beyond words the other.
And I don't want to tell anyone because I want to be the brave, inspiring, encouraging superwoman people say I am. I want to be strong and courageous. I want to be an example for others to look up to. But how am I any of those things when I am on my knees and my tears won't stop and all I feel is pain?
The fact is I know God has great plans. I also know I have great pain. I do not doubt He has deep love, but that does not mean I do not feel deep loss. His power is greater than I could ever imagine...so is the hole in my heart.
I wonder how big my faith in God looks compared to my overwhelming humanness, and I worry that people will commiserate with the human and not look to the God. I am afraid people will see my pain and not recognize the promise that even this...even this heart-wrenching, mind-exploding anguish...serves a bigger purpose in the hands of a great God.
And then in the midst of telling Him how I am afraid of making Him look bad, I wonder...whose face am I trying to save--His or mine?