to write

Constantly, I check my reading list of blogs, hoping for something inspirational, moving or intriguing to  appear. I crave the souls of people, and the warmth of their words. No new posts have appeared as of yet, even when I tap the page closed and open again with two minutes. (as we all know, this works... well, never.)

So I decided to write my own warmth tonight.

Lately, the itch to write has been incessant, nagging my fingers to tap out words, phrases, sentences, fragments, run-ons, anything. Yet I have nothing to say. Nothing I want to say.

I do not wish to say this or that because I am afraid of what people might think. Will it sound corny? Tacky? Badly written? Ridiculous?

I try to pretend that no one will read this. I am not fooling anyone. I know I will post a link to this post on Facebook and more people than my usual two or three regulars will soak in the letters I have sent to float on this ocean of white. It makes me nervous. Writing makes me even more vulnerable than usual.

{... only he is an emancipated thinker who is not afraid to write foolish things.}
Anton Chekhov

I fear writing foolish things. 

Dickens, Bronte, Gaskell, Tolkein, and Lewis are mountains of writing I may never reach, a daunting thought. But I have a little hill of my own to climb. I must write. And so I will, I do-- every time realizing that my fear will come true: I will write a great deal of foolishness. It must not matter. I have been blessed with a gift with words in my own way and time. To pretend it to be otherwise is spitting in the face of the One who gave it. He has asked me to use my gift and I will. 

I do not have to be the greatest writer in history. I do not even have to ever publish a book. If I can use my words to lift others up and show them love, then I have used my gift well. I simply have to trust Him. When He asks me to write, I will write and trust Him to move through me in whatever way is best. It is in my hands then out of my hands so mysteriously and beautifully. I can write--be myself, who I am meant to be--and not worry, not fear.  

This is freedom.

Hello...

Procrastination, an art of which I am a master. Whether a Jedi or Impressionist, say I cannot, but a master I am. (Yoda is obviously voting Jedi...) Quibbling specificity aside, the very last sort of words I should be typing are blog words. I should be writing about architecture, Dickens and Noah. Interesting, perhaps only to myself and my sister, but not thrilling.

Instead, my mind wanders to strange ports of thought. I have a running picture of what my mind looks like. Perhaps someday I will explain, but it is an attic. In it are many objects, one of which is a small box, the word HELLO wood-burned into the top. All my thoughts about this funny word are kept in this small, dark box with a sliding lid.

hello. I love this word. I cannot explain any truly deep or philosophical reasoning, except that it seems a cheerful and optimistic word. Hello is always cast from lips with hope, hope of a response. It is a greeting word, meant to acknowledge another person. Stemming from this admiration for the word, I have a soft spot for songs with the word "hello" in them.

I can only think of a few songs with the words hello in them now, but I know there are more. Hello is just a word meant to be sung.

hello Seattle, I am a mountaineer....

hello, it's me again, a whole lot's changed...

and all I did was say hello...

Of course I don't like just any song with hello in it. But still, I like the word hello. It is simple, yet sometimes takes all our courage to say. Perhaps these are just the incoherent ramblings of a weary college student who feels as though school withdrew an enormous sum from her brain and ran off like a vagabond into the sunset. Perhaps not.

Who I am...

"I'm the one You love, 

I'm the one You love,

That will be enough.

I'm the one You love."

Remind Me Who I Am
Jason Gray

Be reminded friends, and never forget.

I know that You can give me rest...

My soul finds rest in God alone;
my salvation comes from him. (NIV)

Psalm 62:1

I found this verse etched in white across a sunset on Pinterest just now. The meaning it holds for me now is indescribable. My body, mind and spirit have never before been this exhausted. To find rest. It sounds delightful. It was another reminder to just be, with Him. "to run away, to find a place quiet to pray, a place that's lonely, where I can find You only." Jeremy Riddle "Always"

As is usual, I scrambled for my Bible to underline the verse. I was surprised after fighting with clingy pages when I finally arrived at the 62nd Psalm. It wasn't quite the same...

For God alone my soul waits in silence;
from him comes my salvation. (ESV)

Psalm 62:1

"Waiting? No, this version must be confused. Am I in the wrong chapter? I want to rest, not wait." My silly heart, and the words it feels. For Pete's sake. 

As soon as the words had been felt and flashed across my mind, I realized what was happening here. First of all, that there is a Greek word I need to look up. 

But even before I looked it up, I wondered, pondered. Waiting and resting. Why are these interchangeable? Waiting for me is a trial. Waiting in line, I dance, tap my feet, nervously tap my fingers on my can of soup (I eat a great deal of soup) and sigh as the man in front of me drops his coins all over the floor. Waiting is exhausting, I thought. Perhaps, it isn't supposed to be.

Perhaps waiting is supposed to be restful. How? Well, there is no time like a time of waiting, to learn trust and contentment. To understand that He is enough, more than enough really, more than I could have ever hoped for, is to rest. For waiting then becomes a time to bury yourself in His vast love.

duwmiyah, the word in question means  "silence, still, repose, still waiting" according to Strong's Concordance. True rest isn't found in bringing our problems to God. Yes, we MUST bring them to Him, but stopping after that is missing out on the rest. Rest is sitting in silence, waiting for Him. Content to simply be with Him. Yes, we have prayers, requests, confusion, frustration, but we have to trust Him. I have to trust Him. Whether He answers my questions, today or in 30 years, I have to learn contentment in His presence. 

Wait. Rest. Be silent. Dwell on the blessedness of your salvation, not the pain you are feeling. Don't ignore the pain, but don't let it be the tent you live in. Live in satisfaction. Just be. With Him.