I started thinking about my blog, or lack of blog, a few months ago. My eldest, out of the blue, asked me why I don't write anymore... The question surprised me a little. I had no idea he was ever one of my readers in the first place. The answer to his question isn't so simple. There are reasons. Busyness is the easiest excuse. Seriously, though, life is MARCHING... but I've told you about all of that, the bazillion kids, activities, careers, businesses, ministries, hobbies, trips... It's A reason, but not THE reason.
A variety of observations have collided in my mind this week so I've decided to sort the mess out here in front of you all.
Observation #1- I have an acquaintance. I don't have much interaction with my friend, but because it's-a-small-world-after-all, occasionally information about my friend's life crosses my virtual path. I usually smile and silently cheer the life events as I interpret them, and then click my way back to something more relevant to my life. Recently, when this friend has popped up on my screen, I've noticed a distinct absence of information. That's cool, of course, but it is notably different. So, the difference has got me wondering. Then worrying. Then praying. Then questioning myself...
Observation #2- I read an online opinion article the other day. The topic was about the suicide of a reality tv "star", but more specifically, her social media posts and the lack of warning signs on social media. The author of the article was bemoaning the fact that a person in such emotional or mental distress would post their life as a "lie" online, looking perfectly happy, yet harboring dark, brooding, dying thoughts. The author was angry, judgmental even. I found myself defending the other perspective and haven't been able to shake my defensive mental response...
Observation #3- I have questioned the motives the public and private nature of my own social media posting. Honestly, as I look back over the eight or so years that I've been publicly online, the privacy settings have been of utmost importance. Do you know that there are people out there that want to HURT you? Seriously, some make a game of causing pain. It's a real hurt too, it's not the kind that gets kissed away by your mother at the end of the day. Some of them want to take your kids, or your marriage, or your peace, or your beauty, or your faith, or your life...
Observation #4- Randomly, I got into a discussion with someone about tattoos and salvation this week. (Yes, this ties in, sorta; I'll get back around to it.) He was convinced that if a person has tattoos, he/she can't possibly be "holy" or "saved". Obviously, I disagreed with him, but that blog I'll only write if I absolutely must. This blog has nothing to do with the concept of tattoos, but specifically what my husband's mean to him. He is covered in tattoos that are designed specifically to match his former life's perspective and belief system. Often he has said that he is thankful for those marks because all he has to do is look at the ink on his hands, arms, legs, neck or body to remember his lifestyle and counter-belief and life narrative before he met Christ, and to recall the cost of his purchase by Jesus' blood and resurrection...
Observation #5- Life has reallllllllllly been difficult for this last year or more. I have nearly drowned in tears. I've been afraid. I've been without faith. I've been without hope. I've been alone. I've been angry. I've been rejected. I have rejected. I've been rude. I've been defensive. I've been harassed. I've lashed out. I've been in anguish. I've quit. I've huddled in the dark. I've screamed in the wind. I've begged for mercy.
I have posted so. many. smiles.
These observations- with their thoughts and emotions have marinated for a month or more as I've considered writing it out. They've been pillow talk with my best friend after we've kissed the kids goodnight; they've been hashed through with scripture references and possibly a few expletives and giggles and tears with my fake big sister- who is an unfailing, faithful, forever kind of friend. What are people supposed to do anyway, post an audio recording of an unsolvable argument with their spouse? Oooooh, how about photos of their teenager's worst mistake? What about the gruesome details of the very life slipping away from a parent? Should we really air the false accusations of former in-laws, or ex-husbands, or maybe tongue lashings from the new wife who doesn't know jack about us? Maybe we should include strangers' overheard murmurings about us from church on Sunday? How about the abuse or neglect of bonus children that I love like my own? How about clients, patients, students or peer parents and coworkers- should their accusations, opinions, insensitivities or injustices towards us be something we daily make public? Should our status update include the mournings of a child who is realizing that life isn't fair and that even parents lie? What would be the social media protocol in those cases? Do we photograph our worst selfie days? How about an audio post of our unspoken thoughts? What, seriously, would Jesus post on His Facebook or Twitter or Instagram in those situations?
The truth is, it's human nature to put everything we've got going for us out in front, to make it our cover photo or status update. Likewise, it's human nature to sweep under the rug or shove in a closet the things that would cause another to grimace or shun or outright slam us to our knees. Don't people suck?! We are all grasping and shoving and pushing and posing and dying and screaming silently to be known and hidden all at once. We are all simultaneously condemning each other while begging for mercy ourselves. Somehow we are all believing a facade about each other and comparing our full story to the partial story of another. Let's just remember that we all have joy and struggle. We all have laughter and tears. We all have victory and defeat. We all need to be support and to be supported. We all need prayer, praise, and encouragement.
I'm sad because I see that all life is hard. My life is hard. My life has been ugly. Yet, my life is not my own. My sin and mess cost the same as my husband's tattoo scarred life, which cost the same as the thief and murder next to Christ on the cross- therefore my story is no longer mine. I no longer own the rights to my story or the ability shove the details into a closet somewhere. That definitely terrifies me, but it also frees me.
I am joyful because I see that life is redeemable. My life is worth the "hard". My life has beauty in the messiness. My life is not my own and every time I am given an opportunity to share a piece of the uncomfortable ugliness of my story with someone, I see tangibly that there is purpose in the past and present pain. Every snapshot of a smile means there is VICTORY in that moment. There is a Comforter. There is a Protector. There is a Peacemaker. There is a Lover. There is a Father. There is a Savior. There is Reconciliation. There is Freedom. There is Hope.
I have so much to be thankful for! If you don't mind, I'm going to keep posting smiles. The rest of that nonsense I'll just take to my knees in prayer so the world wide web doesn't have to sort it out for me.
Exodus 14:14 The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.
