I’ve forgotten why I write. And maybe I’ve forgotten too how to write. “All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” {Ernest Hemingway}
I keep thinking about those early posts, the ones from several years ago. I compare them to what I’ve written over the past few months. There’s something a little less personal about my recent writings.
I think back to the beginning, to the reasons why I began: to share words of hope, grace and love for those who are hurting; to get past the surface to the truth of hearts. Fear has stopped me from doing that. Fear of making others angry when I don’t ignore certain parts of my life experiences. Fear that I’m a hypocrite because I’m struggling to extend grace in a particular area. Fear that I’m not good enough, and why would anybody want to read my story anyway? Fear keeps chattering in my ear: “I’m hurting so I couldn’t possibly have any hope to offer.”
Last fall I heard Jon Acuff say, “Fear fears community.” I’m finding that to be increasingly true for me, mainly because I’ve had some nasty experiences with larger bodies of community. The more criticism and rejection I experience, the smaller I want my community to be, which is negatively affecting my writing.
So I’m trying to remember how to put my heart on the line again, to hang it out there for you to see . . . to take from it what you will. I’m trying to remember what my voice sounded like before I allowed it to be silenced far too often. I’m trying to recall how to write my feelings instead of trying to write what pleases certain people. I’m trying to remember how to be me, that I am enough, and that my story, like yours, matters.
Indeed, it does matter, Rebekah. God has given you a unique voice and unique set of experiences (hearts, honesty and all), and you will resonate with some and not with others. Others don’t matter (in the sense that your message is not meant for them). But if you don’t share from the depths of who you are, who God made you to be, who He is making you to become, then the very people (LIKE ME!) who need your message the most, will be short-changed. And I think you will be too. So I encourage you to write on with abandon, and leave it with Him and with those of us who both appreciate and need your message.
Love
Lynn
Lynn, so glad you’re back in the blogosphere! As always, thank you for the encouragement. I’m discovering that my voice is maybe not meant for those I first thought. There seems to have been a shift in readership and reach, and I’m trying to figure out how to adjust. Shelly Miller’s most recent post gave me much to think about in this area — to quit seeking perfectionism and just walk through the open doors.
So glad to hear from you and hope you are doing well! Much love to you!
I just gave you a shot of encouragement over at Shelly’s too! I love her writing, and her personally, just as I do you. You two have sucn unique voices and such powerful messages. I am thinking maybe part of this is not even contemplating who the readership is, but rather walk through God’s door and just write what He says. The readers He wants to come will be there. Whaddayathink?
Thakns for the welcome back. I’ll write to you more personally…..just a very filled weekend!
Love
Lynn
Oh, my precious friend. You ARE enough. And your story does matter! And there are MANY, like me, who need to hear your story, your words of encouragement, your hope your grace! You have so much to offer so many. And I encourage you to write… unafraid, without regret, and with complete confidence that God has given you a story to share to those who will and need to hear it. You are so loved!!!
Thank you, Angie. I can say the same for you!
And I have no doubt there will be many reading your story one day, too. Love you!
Hi Rebekah,
I have enjoyed your tweets and blog posts on grace. As I read I wonder if you have ever thought of grace as more than unmerited favor. I know God sticks by us when we screw up but I don’t think God sees us as screw ups. I think God views us as his children and is normally quite delighted with us just as you are with your kids. I know it’s bad evangelical theology but then again I don’t let that bother me. I think God is at least as good a parent as any of us are.
While I just recently began reading your posts, I’ve found them to be refreshing; an invitation–or perhaps a dare–for all of us to become more authentic with ourselves and our with our community. Our world and churches tend to be bound to predictable, controllable prose in which little risks are taken and, therefore, the potential for real transformation is dramatically reduced. Thank you, Rebekah, for laying your heart before your readers. “Finally comes the poet.”