Before I get into my subject for tonight's post, thank you to those of you who have written to ask why I haven't posted since Tuesday. I'm truly humbled and grateful that so many of you read my posts each day, though for the life of me, I honestly don't know why you do. And as to your questions about why I haven't been writing for the last few days and asking if I'm OK ... I've thought a great deal today about how best to answer those questions. If you've been reading with me for any length of time, you know that I'm pretty transparent in this blog, or at least I try to be. Some people appreciate my transparency, and others don't, which always begs the question for me as to why folks who don't like what I write about keep on reading my posts ... I don't think I'll ever understand that one, and perhaps I'm not meant to. I could tell you that it was a busy week, and that would be true. I could tell you that I've been freaking out about getting on an airplane in a couple of days, and that would be true. I could tell you that I spent Friday evening celebrating an early Christmas with Brad and Shelby and Meghann and Barrett, and that would be true. I could tell you that I've packed and repacked at least 25 times, and that would be true. I could tell you that I've spent a significant amount of time worrying about leaving my canine buddies Julie and Ollie while I travel, and that would be true. I could tell you that my index finger on my right hand is split on the end because my skin is so dry and it hurts to type, and that would be true. All of those statements are true but they aren't the real reasons as to why I haven't been writing. I haven't been writing because ... well ... keep reading, and I'll explain.
People often ask me if there are other blogs that I follow regularly, and if so, which ones I would recommend. That's always a tough question for me to answer, not the whether or not I read other authors' blogs part of the question ... I do ... but the part about which ones I would recommend. There are a few that I can wholeheartedly recommend across the board to anyone at any time at any place they may be in life. There are other blogs that I would recommend to people who are struggling with certain issues and many times I do just that via private message ... I recommend a specific blog that I feel is appropriate for the person's situation. And then there are the blogs that I read for me because they make me feel a little less alone in my journey ... blogs that often put into words what I'm thinking or feeling but don't have the courage to write myself.
A recent post in one of those blogs I read for me recounted a conversation the writer had with his head doctor ... yep, he writes about his head doctor, too ... a conversation about the personal stuff he shares in his blog. It's a humorous post, but it's also a post that tackles head-on both the good and bad sides of being a well-read blogger who writes about personal life stuff ... not just the fluffy, soft, sweet stuff, but the sticky, hard, painful stuff as well. I could relate to so much of what the writer said in his post ... about the responsibility that accompanies writing from the heart ... about the gnawing deep within me to write the real, the nitty-gritty, the big, the little, the easy and the difficult ... about the overwhelming knowledge that my words often elicit strong feelings and emotions in others, both positive and negative alike. Sometimes I, like the blogger who wrote about the conversation with his head doctor, struggle with the personal part of penning this blog ... not because I don't want to be real or transparent in my writing, but because I'm not anywhere near as courageous as some of you may think me to be, especially when it comes to writing about certain controversial topics.
So what's the real reason I haven't been writing ... what's the deep-down, from-the-gut, see-through transparent reason I haven't been writing? I don't feel sick ... well ... not physically anyway (unless, of course, you count the runny nose and cough I've had for two months). I have, however, been feeling rather melancholy for the last week or so ... maybe because it's the holidays and I miss the times when all my kiddos were able to come home for Christmas or maybe it's because I'm frustrated that I'm still trying to find where I fit or maybe it's because I'm really, really tired or maybe it's just the winter blues or maybe it's because of nothing other than depression taking a stroll through my brain to let me know it's not gone just yet. For all those maybes, there's one thing I know ... tonight, I'm writing from my heart, and I hope you take it in the spirit in which it's intended. And on Wednesday, providing I don't die from anxiety about the plane before then, I'll be in Canada snuggling with my sweet granddaughter. I guess that's two things I know, eh? (That's me practicing my Canadian speak, by the way.)
There are a lot of passages in the Bible that carry with them a ton of personal meaning for me, but perhaps none more than one of my favorites ... Psalm 40:2. "He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand."
I could use a little lifting, God ... I'm ready to be out of the mud and mire. I'd be forever thankful if you would put me on a rock and give me a firm place to stand again.
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