It is fascinating to me how one moment to the next everything can change. A word, a step, a move, a story told, a book read, so many actions creating reactions. What if a simple thought changes everything?
I found an old blog today, forgotten it lies in the rubble of unused webspace, while I journey forward on another blog that stays here mostly neglected. The old blog reminds me of dreams forgotten, fears followed and obeyed and the distance I have gained in freedom from those fears in the years since giving up that blog.
I wrote something in the blog about fears that continue to prevent me most days from writing or sharing. Not sure exactly where these fears root from, but it's difficult for me to sometimes be open with others, to trust them and let them in to hear my thoughts. A fear of their judgement on my opinions. A fear of their response to who I am. A fear of my own response to who I am.
This was part of my first post:
"I love writing, usually I don't like to have people read what I write though... You remember in school when your teacher had you sit and write the rough draft to that paper in class? Well I loved the writing part, but hated whenever the teacher began to walk around the room. I didn't want them to see my unfinished masterpiece before it was finished! So now I'm writing a blog for all to read about everything-- my life as it was, my life as it is and my life as it is going to be :) Let's see what interesting things happen!"
I was trying to open up, to give myself a voice that could be heard. Most likely, no one heard it. I am pretty sure this blog was up and then I chickened out and changed the privacy settings so only the author could read it mere minutes after I published it.
It is sometimes very difficult for me, painful even, like getting a splinter out of the tip of your finger, sharing myself is pulling the splinter that rests deep in my heart. Despite the pain and fear, I still attempt to open up and when I do the rewards far outweigh the risks and rejections of failed attempts.
Seasons change, trees flower, leaves change color, fall to leave room for snow.
Last week, I met a woman on a plane. I thought it would be inconsequential, we'd sit, read, sleep and enjoy our individual American lives free to be independent and never touch each others lives. Any solitary hopes were about to be crushed by the beauty of being open to reaching out, to listening to a story untold, to hearing the cries of another heart, to knowing the challenges, the pain, the heartache, the joys, the triumphs, the journey we all walk through day to day that we can share.
As she sat down, I would have never guessed we would have anything to talk about or that we had anything in common. I was sorely wrong. This woman was beautiful, her seeking eyes, her hunger for truth, her love for others. My prayer for her is that she will find the true source of the fruit she hungers for. The fruit that never withers or dies, that she will find a well of living water in her search. It is so close to her, but so much is all around this well of hope she can't seem to find it. So many false fruits that carry poison that bring sickness and death.
Her words, her cares, her life, her worries, her hopes, her desires, her prayers... all touched my heart. I felt more blessed by her presence in her searching than I feel I could ever bless her. I know He was there, it was His presence I felt, invading our conversation, deeply desiring to declare Himself despite her trifles with giving Him any name. No matter what destiny she was shirking because of her busy schedule full of unfulfilling work, He was there wanting to bless her anyway. His desires for her were to be where she has joy, peace... yet there she was living a life of worry and busy schedules forsaking the two gifts she once knew. But for a moment, there with me, I could see her joy, her peace. Two gifts returning as she expressed her experiences in the heavenly realms through music.
In allowing me to speak some into her life and opening up my heart for her, I feel I rediscovered something I had lost. I had forgotten what brings me joy. I had forgotten what brings me peace. Sometimes this journey gets so difficult to walk, so tiring, so lonely, so painful... I forget. I know the Peacemaker. I know the Giver of Joy. He has blessed me with my own experience of Him. He has given me things I find great joy in, here on this earth. He has given me places to draw near to Him through my own music, my own voice. I felt challenged by this women to realize that with the little faith I have, if I truly embrace it - I can conquer mountains. I can even conquer that splinter in my heart. I can open up. I can let the wounds heal. I can share myself with a stranger. I can even share my deep thoughts and opinions with a trusted friend. I can learn to trust again.
If I truly have faith in a good God and a savior, what need do I have with worry? What need do I have to stay trapped in a season of mourning? Why shy away from the world, from myself, afraid to step out, to have dreams and to have a voice?
It all begins to snowball. With my faith as big as a mustard seed...
Everything becomes possible.
