Silence is not always golden.

There is a time when there is so much to say, nothing comes out.
The page remains blank, and no matter how many times you check that blog the same picture remains at the top.

Nothing new,
yet there is.
And,
there isn't.


Like the times you lay in bed next to each other, and you know if you start the flow of words, it will just take too long to sort it through, so you roll over and go to sleep instead.


I've been rolling over and turning my back to you.

It's been easier.

But it hasn't.

I've been busy, achieving boundaries on my time, choosing what is needed and hopefully profitable.
Yet I've neglected this one thing that could benefit us both.
 
Silence is not always golden.

I read this today. Maybe only other bloggers can understand this struggle. The rest just think we are crazy to put our hearts out in black and white anyway. Maybe we are. And yet relationship is born of honesty and communication and people who don't tell the truth about who they are are never really known by each other.

Loneliness is born of pretending, hiding.

To be honest, I've quit this venue and as a result, lost track of His voice. I've plugged my ears, stilled my tapping fingers, and closed up my heart so you can't see what is there, so I don't have to process and make sense of what I am:

An ungrateful mess.

How many times must I read the book, jot out gifts, lead the book club?
How many ways do I need to frame it up in my home, reminding myself, that this is all gift, grace?

I am broken.

But when I come here, I can only be honest.
Could it be that this place is where I best face what and who I am?

If I lose track of the stories, I’ll lose track of part of me. Lose track of His voice in this life. Telling our stories, keeping traces of His graces, even in a venue such as this, may indeed be important, sacred work, because in these stories, God meets us. We listen to our life and hear God. ~Ann Voskamp

I cannot roll over and turn my back anymore.

Thank you for still being here, for not giving up on this mess, even when she has nothing she is willing to say. Thanks for listening as I listen, that together, we might hear God.

The blog me...the real me.

"I love the blog you."

He says it and I struggle. I know he loves the regular old me too, I just don't like the two being differentiated.

Because the blog me is me.

No, I don't really talk flowery, metaphorically and spiritual all the time. Of course I don't. Out of no ones mouth, except perhaps Anne of Green Gables or another fictitious character, can such witty or sappy or spiritual words flow so easily. I use a thesaurus when my brain freezes and I can't remember a word, or I just want variety in my paragraph. My thoughts are encumbered by what I sometimes consider a sluggish intellect.

No, I'm not always rational and calm and faith filled. I strive to be, greatly desire to move toward wisdom. But I yell, and fuss and fume. I do. I don't like that I do. But I do. It's ironic.. I'm most likely the "blog me" when facing a large crisis than dealing with the everyday.

I've given much thought to this. The blog me and the real-life me, are we really that different? Am I pretending to be something I'm not, more spiritual, more of something I only wish to be?

I think on this and after a while I just quit writing.

I ask myself why I keep coming here, talking to myself, and to anyone listening.

A month passes and as we lay in bed one night, he shares with me a verse he's read. It's in the context of a verse I've claimed for a long time. "Do not be anxious...with thanksgiving....peace that passes understanding...."(Philippians 4:6-7) I know these phrases, and he's learned what I noticed once but since forgot: what follows.

"Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.  Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you."

He's thoughtful when he says, "This verse. It's the blog you."

I think he's right. I process, press keys, and as I do, I filter my life through a lens of truth. God's truth. Life only makes sense when seen through that lens.

As I empty my heart on a bright screen, cursor blinking in wait as I thoughtfully consider my life, I pass on what I have learned or received or heard or seen...in Him.

I begin to put it into practice.

And every blog post diminishes the cyberspace between the blog me and the real life me.

So, love me in real life, or love me here, it's all me. But I think the blog me, the thoughtful me that pauses and considers and remembers, is what God intended for me to be.

I think the blog me is the real me.


Where are you the real you, the best you God intends you to be?

sharing at Hyacynth's today for The Bigger Picture....

Bloggers IRL

Can I just say I love blogging and the community it encourages? Ok, thanks. Carry on.

Just kidding. I have more to say. How surprising.

Carrie and I navigated our way to BlogLove hosted by LoveFeast on a lovely Tuesday evening at a cute little place in Prior Lake. We ate scruptious food, gabbed with lovely women, making new friends and getting reacquainted with others.

photo credit

The baker, Jen and I talked homeschooling, and I chatted about Aspergers with Susie and healthy living with Kelli. Mela shared her dream of singing and gifted us all with a seriously lovely CD.

Janelle, Johanna, me, Allison, Amanda(photo credit), Maggie(Gussy),  Jen

I joked about flossing my teeth with hair (my own! and NOT in public, of course ~ don't groan or gag! A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do!) with the lovely sewing kindred spirit Gussy and a bit about Dave Ramsey too.

And though I should have explained how I survive living out in the middle of nowhere to Allison, who posed the question, I mostly rambled about shopping and fashion out here where Target is trendy. Gah. I should listen more.

I met Janelle and saw her sewing handiwork on display and in our swag bags, and listened and agreed with Kelli that though life doesn't always turn out the way you plan, God is still faithful. (And she made us fun little totes for all the swag we got! Thanks!!)

 
 Trish was lovely, as always, and I conquered my shyness of speaking to the media!

 Johanna and I joked about having husbands 5 years older than us. They are 40. Well, her's basically is! Mine certainly is! Gosh, they are SO old! :)

Molly was there, and though I've seen her around a couple blog events before, we'd never had a chance to talk. She's the real deal and I love what she had to say about staying true to yourself when blogging.

Heather and Allison staged a swag fight as the sun faded, and we enjoyed some fun stories about their trip to Blogher. 

Photo credit

 

There. If you missed it, now you know a bit of the fun I had visiting with all these lovely ladies. For those of you I didn't get a chance to greet: next time!

Thank you Chris Ann and Kristin for your hospitality!

I could so get used to this!

My life as of now

See these cute snowmen? My children made them out of clay complete with paper hats and finger-knit scarves. Yes, they are creative. For the moment. The rest of the time, recently, has been spent chasing each other around the house screaming and causing me to about lose my mind. But I haven't lost it completely yet. Thank goodness. I need it. Bad!

You see, I've started a new job. Possibly the reason my kids are unattended and running around screaming. Yes. I now edit blog books for a friend of mine. (A friend I met because she blogs. And now she's my real life friend, not just a cyberspace friend. How fun is that?)

You see all these typed words on blogs can be turned into family treasures. Professionally printed books. And now it's my job to do that for people who don't want to take the time to figure out how to do it themselves.

Meanwhile, until we figure out a new routine, my children are running wild and causing me to about lose my mind. But not quite. They do find creative things to do too.