Fifty-eight

DSC_0003

“So, how’s the writing?”
“What have you been writing?”
“Have you been writing?”

My well-intentioned friends have been asking lately and encouraging me in my goal/prayer of writing a book this year. We are officially halfway through the year now and I have officially not been writing for a really long time.

I have let my own doubts and insecurities cripple me. I’ve put pressure on this project, telling myself it has to look a certain way or be a certain thing instead of just doing what I love to do- write.

It hasn’t just been my blog that’s been silent. For the most part, my journals don’t even reflect my own thoughts and words. Instead, I’ve been copying down long passages of scripture that both call God and his people to remembrance. I’ve been writing out lyrics to hymns old and new. I’ve been borrowing the words of others to get me through an unusually hard season. Not hard in the sense that there are physical ailments or a sudden death or really anything huge. Just a lot of little things that seem to be affecting me all at once and have me feeling very out of sorts.

I’ve been doing this walking with Jesus thing for long enough now to know that it’s not a mountain-top experience day in and day out. It seems I’ve been in a valley for a while now. It’s lonely here, and dark, quiet and yet loud and distracting at the same time. This valley season has been especially unusual because I haven’t had my own words to help sort things out. I’ve been empty and quiet. I’ve listened at times, but I’ve mostly distracted myself.
While I’ve struggled to pray, struggled to write, struggled to read the scriptures, struggled to make sense of everything I’m feeling lately, I’ve turned to music to call to mind the truths that I actually do know and believe.
Sandra McCracken’s new album, Psalms, has been on repeat since I heard her in concert a couple of months ago. Knowing a bit about the past year or so of her story, I have been overwhelmed as I listen to her cry out to God using David’s words and then remind herself (and me) of the truth of the Psalms. She mentioned that she didn’t have her own words and couldn’t find her voice for a while, as she went through her own valley.
My car has been my sanctuary as I have listened to her music. Sometimes I just listen. Sometimes I sing along loudly and truly believe what I’m saying. Sometimes I sing and wish I believed.
“All Your works are good.”
“Put your trust in God, I will yet give thanks to Him.”
“Be still and know your Maker. Be satisfied in Him.”
“My soul finds rest in God alone, my salvation comes from Him.”
“We will feast and weep no more.”
“Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart.”

“You hold me in my place–flourishing”

I’m filled with hope. I’m reminded that all of life is seasons and change and highs and lows and valleys and mountains. I’m encouraged and excited about what’s on the horizon for our family. It’s a new chapter in our story, and while part of me wants to wait until its conclusion to share it, I know that it will do more good (for me, and hopefully for you, too) if I share it as it unfolds.
So here’s to the return of my words.
Thanks for reading.
Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Fifty-eight

  1. Keely, thank you for sharing the struggle. I’ve known the times when it seems I’m deprived of words-the seeming silence of God paired with (or causing) a seeming silence of my own heart. The comfort of the God who speaks and is not silent through Word and Prayer is beautiful.

    Like

  2. Pingback: Ninety-eight | numbered days

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s