I was reading another blog this morning. I watched through the eyes of the computer screen a relationship begin, unfold, and then end. While I was reading it, I thought how she could write a book. I appreciate so much her vulnerability to share with the world. I think I'm still afraid to share my stuff with the world. That maybe the wrong person would read it and someone would be offended and then hold it against me somehow. I know that seems silly...but I suppose there is a reason for my insecurity. My journals in the past have been 'found', read, and then stuffed up my nose by the intruder because they were somehow offended by my personal thoughts.
When I was growing up, I lived with a very volatile woman and her vacant husband (my parents), who were both very critical, along with the rest of my critical family. My thoughts, feelings, emotions, expressions, wishes, dreams, desires, everything...was wrong or discounted. I've only ended up here, reasonably sane and 'together' by the grace of God. How does one find their way to who they are/truth, when everything that makes you who you are, is destroyed before it ever begins? When encouragement and basic nurturing were voided from the equation? All I know is that my entire life before I found Jesus, was just a series of hits and misses and an extreme school of hard knocks. I felt like I was catapolted out into space flailing and flying and bouncing into everything hard in my path. And everything was hard. Kinda like pin-ball, only every edge was rough and jagged and pierced and left scars.
At some point I put away (burned/shredded) all my journals and refused to ever write anything down again for fear of someone getting ahold of the only thing I could claim as my own...my thoughts. They didn't always make sense, but they were mine. I did write from time to time, but I'd immediately tear up the paper and find the nearest trash receptical that would least likely be found out.
Once I found Jesus I found validation; truth; freedom. It occurred to me for the first time ever that I might actually have some worth and be beautiful; that my thoughts, ideas, dreams were all very valid and that it was okay to have them. I didn't know what to do with the knowlege, but in time, I felt like it was okay to start coming out of my shell. I realized that people do not have the luxury to decide who I am unless I allow them to. I still struggle with people pleasing sometimes, but getting better. If they love me and my heart, it won't matter the decisions I make. And I'm also not responsible for the way someone else's life has turned out no matter how much they point at me and blame me for their miserable feelings and existence.
So, back to journalling... When I got saved; found Jesus, I heard a lot about journalling. I tried to get back into it, but just couldn't get over the fear of my words coming back to haunt me. In time and with a great deal of healing, with a little dose of deliverance, for good measure, my light started to shine. And eventually I found freedom in journalling again. It's been almost four years since I've been saved, and my journalling has started to blossom anew. I now look at my journals as the gateway to the legacy I will leave for my daughter. I'm not ashamed of it anymore because my feelings, wishes, dreams and experiences are all real. THIS is life. This is how things get processed. And journals offer the ability to look back and really reflect on how far I've come. I don't have my journals from the pits of hell any more, but I wish that I did because I want my daughter to know where I've come from. But perhaps I will be able to go back and recount those times, with my new eyes and perspective. I still feel the pain, but I don't carry the burden of it like I used to. Shame is heavy. And praise be to God, it doesn't own me any more.
So with all that said...I might start unfurling a few stories of my own here... reflections. A lot of my posts have been pretty cryptic. I don't know if its a learned mechanism to 'hide' behind the details...but maybe I'll go ahead and give myself permission to be vulnerable. Because even in the middle of vulnerability my story is worth hearing.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Congratulations on four years.
Journaling works for me. If I can get a difficulty down in writing on the page it somehow becomes something small enough to be dealt with.
Most of my journaling is pretty utilitarian. The stuff written there winds up in posts, sermons, newsletter articles or teaching notes.
If shame doesn't own you any more that will show and your daughter will know. In the end that's probably the best thing you could give her.
it's totally worth hearing and writing. Writing honestly, even if for yourself, teaches us and teaches other if they have the honor of reading it. And if it is painful to write about something, do it anyway because it helps work it out for ourselves AND shows us that we can feel. Keep it up, luv.
Post a Comment