In July, I was off from work and was able to spend additional time reading scripture, praying and writing. I learned a lot about myself. I grew and enjoyed the luxury of the extra time to make sense of my thoughts through writing. But in August - when I returned to work I lost my 'extra' time and was unable to write more than a paragraph or two. And the writing that did make its way onto the computer screen was disjointed and clumsy. My thoughts were jumbled. The metaphors and pictures in my head that explained the emotions in my heart didn't line up and I found myself sitting silently before my keyboard with incomplete contemplations, time and time again.
But in September, I learned something. A quick observation from my dear friend and blogger Jackie, (Adventures in the Ordinary), seemed to cut right to the heart of why I couldn't write - why I was unable to finish my thoughts. She reminded me that I write to sort my thoughts. I write to help me make sense of what I am learning - to place in context what God is doing in my life. What I write is personal. It involves my struggles, my pain, my disappointment, my hopes, my hurts. But what I am living now is other people's pain.
I thought about her words for a long time, and I realize they were truth. How do I write when what I am learning is born out of other people's struggles? When my cries out to God are on their behalf, not my own? When I plead with God to show His grace and mercy not because of my sorrow - but because my heart is broken for someone else's grief? How do I post my wonderings, my musings, and my process of their private pain in a pulic place?
For many months it feels like I have been watching hurricane after hurricane tear through the lives of so many I love. I see the storms. I see the devastation left behind after the fury has passed- but I cannot change the hurricane's path. I cannot interject myself and alleviate their pain. I cannot even help rebuild what has been left wrecked and torn. While I feel their pain - while I am deeply affected by all that has transpired - I am on the outside. I am a witness to the storms but I am not in the direct path of the hurricane.
Writing for the last few weeks has been especially difficult. The storms have passed - and I pray, have stopped. But the damage that the winds and the rains have caused is overwhelming. Debris is strewn across the landscape and I am powerless to pick any of it up. It was not my heart that was shattered - but my heart is broken for them. And all I can do is pray. Pray that the God who loves each and every one of them with more passion and selflessness than I will be faithful to restore all that was wrecked in the storms. Pray that He will redeem what was lost and hope that when all is done, they will stand faithful in their call to continue to love Him in return.
