It was the howling wind outside that most closely echoed what was going on inside.  I didn't know it then, but it was a soul crying out for the rest of the body to come away from the slumber.  It had been years since I practiced words on page, and even then it was for my mother.  She would ask for poems for Christmas and her birthday and I would do that for her, eyes rolling, because even my worst coming togethers were her joy on page.

A year ago then, I gathered myself and a great bit of courage to begin a blog.   I stepped right out into this arena of being known in the most intimate sense.  My words, they are not empty.  They are these tender bits and pieces of who I am, what I feel.  To read these is to know the good and the bad of me.  To be known by the flaws and mistakes, the pain, the very aches that bring me to my knees is nothing less than fear.

It may seem a bit of crazy to bare the sacred soul.  It certainly feels that way at times.  My husband, a solid form of patience and grace, listened to the wails of my flesh as I wrestled with the laying out of self.  And it was the offerings of encouragement from many of you, my husband, from the whispers of God himself that have been my hope and stay.

I've tried to walk away from this writing of life.  It's on the hard days when I am a mess of inadequacy.  I feel the burn in my cheeks at the lack of skill when putting together ideas and words and that is when I want most to never hear the howl.  It's always the loud soul that brings me back.  The nagging voice that calls me to create.

I am creation, a work of art by the greatest craftsman known.  And I am known by Him who has made all things well and good.  And you, yes YOU, are all these masterpieces of one great God who has placed in your own soul a voice that cries out.   Perhaps you have awakened to the howl, perhaps you have fallen dead asleep when the fear of being known has gripped you solid.  Know this!  When you answer that call, when you go to the place God intended just for you, you will feel alive.

I never knew I was asleep, until I woke up.

Popular posts from this blog

Even if. . .

The Church will fail you

In these sacred spaces