When I make a decision, most of my family and friends know about it. I’m not ashamed to share what’s on my mind. I’m not really sure why. It’s just something that I’ve been compelled to do in the last 4 years of my life. I was asked how I am able to share my pain so freely with others. The question caused me to do some soul searching.
What has compelled me to share it all? The betrayal, the abuse, the accusations, the years of depression and anxiety. Why do I share it? Why do I not seem to respect the sensibilities of privacy? Why is it that I have no problem telling you that I’m angry, hurt, betrayed? Why can’t I just be quiet?
I asked YHWH about it one day. It was a funny conversation. And ya, I’m gonna share it with you.
So, when you were passing out filters, did you think about installing one on my mind?
*chuckling* Is there a problem?
Yes. No. Yes?
Well, what would it be?
You want to know what the problem is? You’re God. Don’t you just, like, know what my problem is without me having to tell you?
Well. Yes. But I want to know if YOU know what the problem is.
*silence in the heavens…mainly mine*
Well. Yes. I know what the problem is.
And the problem would be that my brain thinks things, and then I…like…say. Well, more like type them. And they make people upset. Uncomfortable. They don’t like me when I say them.
And that’s a problem because?
Wait a minute, you’re not supposed to be sarcastic.
*chuckling* (Did I ever mention that He likes to laugh with me?)
Seriously, it’s a problem. Because I don’t like to make people unhappy. Uncomfortable.
Yes. I know. That’s why I push you. Because you don’t know how amazingly wonderful I created you to be. When you start sharing, you start living, and I love to see you shine.
Oh. (I blush.) Do you know how much I love you?
Yes. Yes I do my child.
I’m compelled by something greater than myself when I sit down to write. Like standing up to share my testimony in a service, I sit at my computer and share my heart and soul. With whoever reads it.
I won’t pretend that I have my stuff together. I don’t. I won’t pretend that I have all the answers. If I did, I certainly wouldn’t be blogging about trying to figure it all out. I won’t pretend that I am capable of doing it all on my own. I can’t. That’s why I have a Savior. Who points me. All the time. To the Father.
As I watch young girls around me wrestle with who they are and what society says they should be, I find myself being angry. DO SOMETHING, he whispers to me. Don’t be angry. Turn that spark, that desire, into something that CAN change things.
So, I continue to write, even if I’m not eloquent. I share my heart. I hope my words bring Him glory.