It’s ironic to write for a living and yet most of the time feel completely devoid of words that matter. When you write grants and reports for the majority of the week, it’s easy to get lost in jargon and monotony. I write all the time yet I feel like I have no words to express the places in my soul that need to be known. Like being desperately thirsty in the middle of the ocean. It’s almost cruel. I groan a lot lately when I try to speak. I try to give shape to what’s happening in my inner person and it comes out either unintelligible, or sounding really trite and pre-fabricated. Like something you’d find on an inspirational poster, right next to the furry kittens chasing a butterfly through a field. And yet here I am, writing in the most public of places. It’s absolutely terrifying. And I need to do it like I need to eat. For too long I have let my job and anxiety over a million things steal my words, my hope, my joy. Yet as Jesus is sweetly restoring my soul, I’m learning in a more true way than ever before that this life is a feast – the banquet of the King that he invites to be an active part of, both being fed by him and breaking that bread with our community. Ushering others to the table. I need to learn to find words for that, because feasts are meant to be shared. I’m an absolute child who understands very little about life or what’s to come, but I know I have a good and faithful Father who desperately wants to instruct my heart and invites me to taste and see that He is good.
I’m starting to see that maybe it’s been good for me to have lost my words for a while. My tendency is to over share, to speak too soon, and in so doing preempt what God is trying to say to me or the way he’s wanting to instruct those around me. Words are precious and powerful and shouldn’t be wasted. I’m learning – painfully, slowly – that some things need to remain hidden. I need to learn to be ok with treasuring things in my heart and not always putting words to them right away, if ever. But there are things that I need to voice (or type) in order to work out the groanings and find continuity and delight in the story God is weaving through my life and the community he’s placed me in. And so I will write about that here. I don’t know exactly how this will take shape, and I can’t promise anything earth-shattering or poetic or 100% theologically sound, but that’s ok because really this is just something my soul needs to do. It’s not about the result, it’s about the process. My cup is filled up and spilling over with joy in his presence. This is a space where I will channel some of the overflow.
