there's really not much to read here. don't waste your time. seriously, it's all rambling crap. ok, suit yourself. but you've been warned
I realize now that for me, this blogging format that we've embraced over the last year or so has become restrictive to the point of discouraging me from writing at all. There was a time when I could write for days on end and I would enjoy the thought of blogging. But now, I feel like every time I open up this page to type, something relevant or poignant has to come out. And the truth is that on nine out of ten days, I'm not poignant.
So it seems to me that when I sit down here in front of the computer, I'm doing so knowing full well that I'm not going to divulge anything more, not one letter more, than I want to share. Perhaps if I had balls and didn't fear repercussion then I would write more openly. But even that isn't true. The reason I don't write more, the reason I don't share everything, is because there are still those things that I find best to keep to myself. Everyone deals with this.
But it flies in the face of everything we've believed, or want to believe, about true community. I once read something along the lines of this...
"True love is withholding the truth when you know it's going to hurt"
And I realize that in our spectrum, in our Christian world where honesty and integrity are so very important to the fibers of our being, we want to look at a phrase like that and scream, "Bullshit!"
But sometimes, on a lot of days and especially those when I'm trying to blog, I believe every word of that line. I believe that true love is sparing someone's hurt in light of "truth". And for me to say that causes fear. I know how this will all sound and look and I can even hear some of the oral arguments that could be summoned to denounce such a phrase. And that's ok. Because it's not as if I've got all these grievances stored up and penned up, just waiting to deliver them. That's not the case.
(writer's note: if you're reading this, I must have chosen not to delete it. Just know that when I was typing it, this was the first point where deleting this post crossed my mind)
I don't really know what I'm trying to say. I know that it's become a chore to write and write with some sort of consistency. But yet, I still like doing it. It's a strange paradox that I can't quite explain. It may just be nothing more than the literal enjoyment of clicking the keyboard and hearing the sound of punching letters. I don't know.
But I'll keep going and you'll keep going and then someday this will all make perfect sense.
or not.
So it seems to me that when I sit down here in front of the computer, I'm doing so knowing full well that I'm not going to divulge anything more, not one letter more, than I want to share. Perhaps if I had balls and didn't fear repercussion then I would write more openly. But even that isn't true. The reason I don't write more, the reason I don't share everything, is because there are still those things that I find best to keep to myself. Everyone deals with this.
But it flies in the face of everything we've believed, or want to believe, about true community. I once read something along the lines of this...
"True love is withholding the truth when you know it's going to hurt"
And I realize that in our spectrum, in our Christian world where honesty and integrity are so very important to the fibers of our being, we want to look at a phrase like that and scream, "Bullshit!"
But sometimes, on a lot of days and especially those when I'm trying to blog, I believe every word of that line. I believe that true love is sparing someone's hurt in light of "truth". And for me to say that causes fear. I know how this will all sound and look and I can even hear some of the oral arguments that could be summoned to denounce such a phrase. And that's ok. Because it's not as if I've got all these grievances stored up and penned up, just waiting to deliver them. That's not the case.
(writer's note: if you're reading this, I must have chosen not to delete it. Just know that when I was typing it, this was the first point where deleting this post crossed my mind)
I don't really know what I'm trying to say. I know that it's become a chore to write and write with some sort of consistency. But yet, I still like doing it. It's a strange paradox that I can't quite explain. It may just be nothing more than the literal enjoyment of clicking the keyboard and hearing the sound of punching letters. I don't know.
But I'll keep going and you'll keep going and then someday this will all make perfect sense.
or not.
posted by gabe at
11:25 PM
1 Comments:
when darkness overshadows our dreams,
when what was is thought to be gone,
when purpose is crushed by circumstance,
when our soul cries out to be loved,
and it seems that no one is there,
it seems that no one really cares.
when truth is hidden to protect the the soul of another,
be aware...someone is always watching, waiting, praying, weeping with you,
you are not alone.
when discouragment rains down like an unending storm,
you are not alone,
when fear chokes out the flow of life,
when dreams seem to have died,
when you feel lost,
when you feel that nothing was real or ever will be,
know that you are not alone.
there is one who holds your hand,
one who truly understands,
you are not alone.
on days when you feel your best is not enough,
when efforts seem to go unobserved,
know that the One who created you to be, watches carefully and patiently.
He is the hand that reaches out into your darkness,
He is the One who hears your every cry,
He is the One who hears the unsaid words both kind and otherwise,
and He loves you
He holds you
He listens
He cares
He is there
He never leaves no matter what
His plans of dream fulfillment never change
you are not alone.
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Anonymous, At
7:00 AM
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