This month marks the two year anniversary of when I began blogging. I’m not exactly sure what I expected when this journey began. I do know that I was hopeful. Hopeful that I could make some sense out of my life and hopeful that just maybe God could use my experiences to help others. Below is the post that I began with on October 3, 2012.
Out of My Winters
“If you have words, write them. If you have brushstrokes, paint them. But by all means – do it out of your winters.” Elora Nicole, A Deeper Story
When I first started writing, doing this, a blog of all things, was the furthest thing from my mind. I truly thought it was just for me – to try to put some sense to my life – to put some order to the chaos that has accompanied me in this journey. Some of the writings come from deep in my past and others from my more recent past but they are all filters that I see my present through. For better or for worse they impact me today sometimes more than they did at the time they happened. Emotionally I feel like a game of 52 card pick-up and this is the scramble to put all the cards back in order! So no, maybe not just for me…
Out of my past. No matter how awful I feel it is, or how much I want to deny a good portion of it, there is redemption. He has walked these roads with me and is made strong in my weakness. God certainly seems to have something else planned for these very private words. Out of my past, the long buried insecurities and shame, He is trying to teach me. And just perhaps, someone else needs to hear the same things I do.
So, I will write out of my winters, clinging to the promise of spring. Trusting that He does indeed make all things new.
Somewhere along the way, that hope faltered. the promise of spring slipped out of my fingers. I’m not sure any longer that anything can truly be made new. I’m left with more questions than answers. More doubt than faith. More despair than hope. So I’m left wondering…
What exactly is hope?
I went to my friends on fb and Twitter and asked that very question. My intent when I asked was to take the answers and write a post of my own. It couldn’t be done. The answers were so very different. They were as varied as the people who gave them. There wasn’t really one thing I could take away from their answers and make any sense of in a single post and do it any justice at all. So I asked some of those that answered to write posts of their own on hope. What it may mean to them. What it is to them. How they see it and hold onto it.
I’m excited to say that they are all different in their approach and all really good. I can’t wait for you to read them! The first one will be coming to you on Wednesday. Beginning next week, posts will run on Mondays and Wednesdays. I will do a simple something on Fridays to round out the week. Could be photos or songs, maybe verses or quotes, but will definitely be inspired by hope.
I think sometimes we find the answers we seek in the stories of others. That out of our winters the promise of spring does come. That we can trust in the hope that all things are indeed made new. We need those me too moments. And that’s why our stories are important. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Our voices matter. No matter how insignificant we feel they are.
Because someone out there needs to experience a me too moment…
See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.