Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Left Wrestling

It has been several weeks since I have written.  My little leave of absence began because I was too under the weather to even stare at the light from my computer screen, but then I read a post by one of my favorite bloggers authors,  Ann Voskamp. The entire entry is breathtaking and thought-provoking (read it. hint, hint.) but a few simple sentences caught my eye, my mind and then eventually my heart.
Afraid that when we aren’t talking, aren’t connected, aren’t piping in on conversations around tables, water coolers, comment boxes, aren’t messaging or emailing …. that we don’t matter. That we will be forgotten.
That we’ll become invisible.
And then...
This. I think on this: “the great contemporary terror of anonymity.” Is the whole of our lives this flailing, surging struggle against obscurity? That our worst fear is to be unknown. Not known as someone special, unique… better. That only when we are seen, and then, most importantly,valued … only then do we see our own worth. 
Oh how these words ring true for so many reasons.

I have always been a woman who has struggled with opening my writings and the whirling of my mind up for public opinion.  On one had it is a door that ushers in those that I love and  are like-mind to connect with me and know my heart, joys and struggles. Yet on the other hand, it is at times merely a way to be seen. Partially known from afar. After all, it is much safer that way, right?

On Saturday night I sat 'round a table with some of my dearest friends, and we talked about Ann's post and our culture and I confessed my sincerest desire to write for God's glory, discerning when to invest time pounding away at the keyboard. I also shared with these friends my feeble attempts at merely wanting to being seen and not forgotten in this world of chaos.

I have poured out this struggle many times before to my sweet husband, who graciously accepts me as I am.  But Saturday night, I felt brave. I took the risk of coming outside the safety of my own home, and let words of pride and vanity drip from my lips. These words came forth as an act of faith; trusting that the Lord will not leave me this way, leaving little to fear. He does indeed command us to confess our  sins so that we may be healed.

As I often do, I sing Ginny Owen's sweet lyrics up to heaven as a cry for dependence on the Lord's sanctifying work in my life.
And I am clinging to the promise You're not through with me yet.
You're not through. Not yet. Amen.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in your sight O Lord, my rock and my redeemer. Psalm 19:14


  1. What a beautiful sentiment. And I LOVE this music... Have a beautiful day!

  2. you'd never be forgotten sweet girl! I so love seeing what's up in your life even though I'm unfortunately far from it. I appreciate your heart so much!!!