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on the power of showing up

note: I wrote this post in April of 2019 (pre-COVID). It's been sitting in my drafts for quite a while, but I think it's time for it to see the light of day. It's been helpful for me to reread over the past few months, especially as I continue to try to make an effort to write, and I hope it can be helpful to you, too. i got an invite to a writers' group a few months ago, and i had never felt like more of a fraud in my life. it had been months, if not years, since i'd felt like a writer. the proverbial well of words in my heart had dried up, it seemed, and i wasn't sure if it was ever coming back. i agreed to go out of a sense of helplessness—i'd identified as a writer ever since i could remember. if i'm not a writer, who am i?  i told myself that it was important to show up and act like a writer even when i didn't feel like one, because even though i hadn't been writing, i reassured myself, i still was a writer. but sometimes the words f

different, yet the same

I'm not a pastor's daughter by any means, but sometimes I wonder if the title couldn't be applied informally. I can't remember a time when my parents weren't reaching out to someone in need. I admire my parents. They do their best to completely open themselves up to God's plan, whatever it may be. They're not perfect, but they don't have to be. The thing about surrender is that God sometimes turns it into His wildest, greatest plans.

Along the way, God drops people into our lap. They need us to speak into their lives in different ways, and it surprises me that we often need them, too.

My heart hurts for these people. Our friends. Broken families. Redeemed situations.

I'm learning that life... isn't perfect. If it was, we wouldn't need heaven. We wouldn't need a hero.

We wouldn't need Jesus.

Still, it hurts. The world hurts. Pain hurts. Life is hard.

We are broken.


And the sad part is, we all think we're alone. We feel isolated, and we've fallen into the trap of believing that no one could possibly understand how we feel. So we coldly trudge along, lost in our insecurities and struggles, traversing a lonely, rocky path that we never would have chosen for ourselves. We believe we are alone.

We are wrong. We are never alone.

'Cuz we could never find our way back home with broken hearts
So love has come to meet us where we are."
- Sing, Josh Wilson

I was pleasantly surprised this week to find out that many people go through the same things I do. Insecurity, depression, fear. This is all a part of being human, traversing this road we call life.

And it's going to be okay.

He is coming soon, He is coming soon
He will take his bride,
He will make her new
He is coming soon, He is coming soon
To carry us home."
-The Saints, Josh Wilson

We are uniquely different, yet the same. Same struggles. Same pain. Same Savior.

We are broken, tossed by the winds. We are bruised, battered, and bleeding. We are beautifully made. We are blessed.

We are different, yet the same.

And we are His.

Comments

  1. Oh, so beautiful. It's wonderful to find people that relate in the same way when you thought you were alone. God is so good, isn't he?

    ReplyDelete
  2. That's so beautiful and so true.

    ReplyDelete

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