An invalid writer is confronted with truth

I could possibly bore everyone I know with writing another unimportant blog post.
This fear has stunned me into a writing coma where I have slept for months,
waiting to feel a spark of inspiration that didn’t feel forced.

Why is it so quiet when it snows?
Is it because the cold hard truth makes you hold your breath and stand still?

Tell the truth?

Well here it is:

I want to make something meaningful.
Craft words and phrases of art.
Powerful.
Inspirational.

The point is to move souls…
Evoke motion…to see if anyone gets me?!
Really gets me?

Im just another copy cat, trying hard to lead the way.
At the end of the day, I just want to be someone important.
I want to be triumphant.
Beautiful.
Exciting.
I want an epic destiny.
I want to climb to the climax of this movie with a powerful score, and blow everyone’s minds with my tenacity.

How selfish, how selfish, how selfish.

The grip of control is tight with its counterfeit…and here I am again worried about me, me me.

My mind swirls with thoughts that are hard to package and share.
I guess thats why I’m a writer.

Lose myself to chance?
Ok.

Pen to paper spilling.
Pushing me to dig deeper.
Urging me forward and I’m forced to keep up.
Stumbling across the page with my words.

I fight against what comes naturally because that’s what good girls are taught to do.

When really, lets just get real…

I’d slice throats if I had to.
I’d steal if I thought God wouldn’t care.
My darkness is ever present.
Can’t trust my instinct because its always going to be sinful.

I’ve been paralyzed on this mat for a year.
Writhing in bitter pain and pity.
Laying here waiting for a miracle.

“Get up and walk.”

Warm light of love starting to thaw my frozen heart.

Praying that this time I’ll trust and obey,
to spring up off of this bed and be healed.


“One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be healed?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.” Jesus said to him, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” And at once the man was healed, and he took up his bed and walked.” (John 5:5-9 ESV)

Dissecting is necessary for study

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I have been off the blogging airwaves for a little over a week. My allergies have kept me busy dealing with headaches and misery which in turn has allowed me to excuse myself from writing. Which really means, I have excused myself from checking in with myself and being present and REAL. Sometimes I just get sick of myself and it all seems redundant.

In all honesty, each day I have sat down to write and I feel stumped. Writers block has finally set in after almost 150 posts since February. I just feel like I don’t have anything bubbling up to the surface right now.

There is plenty going on in my life I could write about.
I have struggling family members who haunt my thoughts constantly and weigh heavy on my heart. I have been missing them terribly.
I have witnessed true heartbreak among my friends. Death, divorce and discontentment swirled around in hushed conversations amid many different households. I have made myself available to carry burdens along side them in hopes to lighten the load. Living life together. I have prayed and wondered why? It never gets easier to hear bad news. I have put trust in God that he will surely make beauty from all these ashes.
I have scolded my children. I have had fights with my husband, fights with myself and my very own body, resentful of limitations I allow myself. Resentful of being in my own way. I have yelled and smirked. I have been difficult. Tired, irritable.
I have been juggling money and chores. Made meals and amends. I have been counseled and offered counsel. Showered and dressed. Worried and stressed. I have dodged phone calls and returned them. Faced the music and dodged bullets. Been overly honest and painfully vague. Kept my word and made new commitments. Met goals and completely blew others off. Canceled plans and forgotten things. I have scrolled newsfeed after newsfeed in a weak attempt at being connected but have realized it only leaves me feeling disconnected, bitter and jealous (every single time!).

Yet, I have belly laughed, cried tears of joy and slept so deeply and peacefully for a few nights in a row that it somehow makes up for the harder things.

Life just keeps moving…ready or not.

(P.S. One of my favorite cousins designed this logo for me in honor of my “dissection of an open heart” that is the essence of Realology. Isn’t it cool?)

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