Living and Writing

Yesterday I was finished blogging for the rest of my life. Then I woke up today and asked myself why. After fighting for a year to figure out how to say what I'm really wanting to say, now I'm going to stop?

I want to write about Life. Even though I'm going through an extremely difficult season and some days feel like hell, many days I feel alive, hopeful, and full of peace. I want to write about what's real for me. The beautiful, hopeful things are often more real than the pain. But when I start writing about the beautiful things, I feel guilty. Like people are going to think I'm smoothing over the pain and pretending that everything is ok. That's not it.

That's not it at all.

I process the pain with my closest friends. I cry. I sob. I feel it all. But then I move on to the beautiful things. Beautiful connections with my amazing kids. Beautiful moments in nature soaking up Life all around me. Beautiful moments pouring out life on those I'm working with in craniosacral and massage therapy. Beautiful moments using my brain to learn clarinet, bones and muscles, aromatherapy, and how to start my own business. Beautiful moments with friends talking about LIVING and BECOMING and CREATING magic in our world.

I refuse to let pain and difficulty steal, kill or destroy my life. I believe in a LIFE GIVER. I believe in a Redeemer. I believe in a CREATOR God who is ever at the task of creating life out of nothing, life out of chaos. And that's what the Beautiful Spirit of God is doing in, around and through me. It's what He did for the last 39 years of my life to get me to this place, to mold me into the person I am today. And this is simply one more piece of my story that contains pain and seeming death. But with God, life is the focus . . . even in death. So I will continue to write about Life.