It's past my bedtime but the discomfort of a hot thai dinner eaten too quickly four hours ago is keeping me up, along with the nagging feeling that whatever gift I have for writing has been quietly benched for too long. The trip I took to Portland in December to escape the burden of a schedule was so prophetic — this has been a year of near suffocation for me. Time has become a commodity more precious than A Girl's Best Friend.
struggle :: prayer
Two days ago I worked from early morning until the bell at the Catholic church across the street rang in 6 o'clock. I rushed home to walk Chester and make tiny cucumber tea sandwiches, which I ate in the car as I rushed back through downtown to a meeting at the church, where I also work. The meeting lasted nearly four hours, after which I felt like all of the people present in the room had been kicked in the knees at least once, occasionally agreeing but only to disagree. By that point I had worked more hours than not in the day, without any real dinner or rest to speak of.
To close the meeting, I was asked to pray for the mission to Sierra Leone, a group of people whom I confess I don't know by name, or even whether they have yet left the country. And so after beginning the Generic Mission Trip Prayer we as Christian leadership seem commanded to pray — for traveling mercies and the preparation of hearts and minds — I stopped. I waited several moments and then tapped the shoulder of the woman on our team who has been most intimately connected with the group to finish the prayer.
Because the busier I am, the harder it becomes for me to drop to my knees in prayer. I quickly ran out of words worthy of the men and women leaving for Sierra Leone. And rather than continuing to carry out a mindless prayer, I held my flailing tongue and encouraged my Sister to do the work for me.
The less time I have for prayer, the more time I need for the voices of the world to fall from my ears, the more time I need for my knees to fall into a posture where I am ready to speak to the Creator and Savior of the world. And the more essential it becomes for me to make that happen.
struggle :: words
I was at a women's conference last weekend, and listening to the voices around me during the Career break-out session I realized just how blessed I am that God has confirmed in me what my vocation in the Kingdom is. He has named me a writer, a counselor, and an open book to be read by those who don't know Him. Yet even as a writer, my most prevalent struggle lately has been with words.
The Gospel of John begins with the familiar verse, "In the beginning the Word already existed. He was with God , and he was God… Life itself was in him, and this life gives light to everyone. The light shines through the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it."
Following from those verses, my writing is not to be of this world, but for this world, with words authored by me (perhaps) but inspired by the Word and pointing back to the Word, giving life and light to the world. And this is both my highest calling and my greatest struggle. I wrestle with the idea that, made in the image of God, the words I write or say have the ability to speak either light or darkness into existence. And rather than take the risky move of picking up a pen or typing up a blog, I often say nothing.
And sometimes that is okay.
The struggle comes with discerning whether my silence is wisdom, as in Proverbs 10:19, or whether it is vice (laziness, cowardice, doubt, self-hatred, or any number of other happy bullet points on the resume).
…
There is so much more I have been learning and processing through lately, particularly the ways the men and women of STATUS have been challenging me through I Am Her and Muse, as well as some of the phenomenal reading I have been doing. I pray that I will eat another uncomfortably hot thai dinner soon so that I will have the time to capture those thoughts in writing as I have tonight. (Heh.)
I thank those of you who have been patient with me and my lack of presence here and in your lives. Please continue to pray with me through this.
Your Sister
