No More Blogs

“If you could have one wish for this year, what would it be?”

A friend asked me this question on my birthday.

After thinking a moment, I said, “I would wish to have no more blogs to write.“

The other people in the room seemed perplexed, and to any outsider, that might seem like a strange wish. But he got it.

The last few blogs I had written had gotten 5 and 10 times the views that I normally get. I had received over a hundred comments, publicly or privately or in person. I’ve been told so many stories of how my willingness to share those things brought others freedom. But those blogs were the hardest to write. They came from deeply painful places of loss and brokenness and grief. They came from sleepless nights of typing through anger and tears. After a year of blog-worthy, life-changing events, I was ready to put down the metaphorical pen.

I’m done, God. If you send one more thing my way, I will disappear. I will shatter. I will cease to exist.

I wished for no more blogs.

But after less than 2 months of silence, here we are again, together, sharing the things God is doing in my life. And the moments I always feel like I need to write and need to process this way aren’t easy.

Today wasn’t easy.

I thought grieving the loss of loved ones who had been sick for a long time would be short. I thought Mother’s Day would pass without notice. I thought I would be okay with my dad getting remarried. I thought I could live easily in a community with my ex-boyfriend. I thought the pressures of work wouldn’t stack up, another straw on the camel’s back.

I was wrong. I have felt each of those things deeply, to the very core of who I am. It’s a running joke that I test as high on the feeler side of a Meyers-Briggs test as possible (but it’s also 100% true). And I’ve struggled to separate one hard thing from another on the days where the grief sneaks back in. And this last week has been a nonstop collection of those high-emotion, grief-filled days.

Life is hard sometimes. And all my hard things seem to ebb and flow on the same wave, with all the hard all at once. As much as I know God wants me to vulnerable in this space and share it with you, sometimes I feel like my story is a burden. Sometimes I am selfish with it. Sometimes I don’t care what freedom it might bring someone else, because it’s easier not to put it all out here.

But this week, I was reminded of something. When I share my story, I’m sharing the story of what God is doing in my life. I’m worshipping the Author. I’m bringing Him glory, from the moments of gut-wrenching sorrow to the moments of elation and inexplicable peace.

I love the fact that I feel things deeply. I love that I express every emotion through tears. I love that God has allowed me to have His heart for people. And honestly, I love that God has blessed me with the gift and ability to write about it. It’s part of who I am.

But my blog has been unbalanced, because I don’t only feel the hard things deeply.

In those weeks of my silence, God has been so good. He’s been speaking to me nonstop. We’ve tried new things and gone on adventures. He’s awakened passions. We’ve met new friends. He’s put people in my life who love and pursue and encourage me. We’ve reached deeper and deeper levels of intimacy. He’s shown me new and beautiful parts of my identity. He has been absolutely gracious and gentle and wonderful to me.

But I didn’t write about any of that here. It’s written on the pages of my journal, on the pictures of my Instagram, and in the dialogue of my conversations. But I haven’t shared any of that with you here, in this space I consider sacred. And I am sorry for that. I’m sorry you have only seen my weak moments, instead of the unimaginable life God is giving me. I’m sorry I didn’t even want to share any of it with you.

So I take my wish back. Give me more blogs, God. But with the blogs of difficult vulnerability, give me blogs of growth, of strength, of joy, of hope, of love, and of all the beautiful things you have been doing and will continue to do in my life. This is your story, and I want to share it all.

For my good and Your glory.