What it's about and so much more.

There's this thing that grows strong inside of me, longing always for what is authentic and raw and open. I have the hardest time cracking open the doors locked tight in walls bricked high around my soul, but I crave that which is open constantly. I think that's called irony;) So, there are times when days turn to weeks that slip by while I push away the words and really just don't want to sit at the computer and bleed out what I know will come. Funny thing about being a writer, you can't "just write" but instead, we simply slice open whatever place we might be in life at the time and wait to die from the words bleeding freely...we are also dramatic...that was me being dramatic. Seriously though, it's never just writing, but it's as if we wrench out a piece of our very core and expose it to the world. I'm convinced it's far more difficult for writers to write than it is for other people. We write instead of talk. I do this a lot. I don't want to talk most of the time, but I allow the words to build up and swirl around until out they spill...and relief follows shortly after...somehow.

I turned thirty somewhere between the last post I wrote and this one. I have a whole lot to write about having slipped quietly out of my twenties and into this new decade, but that is a story for another time. Here and now, I am finding it to be more true than before that the writing does not become easier. However, I am done with the pretense and facade that different years in my twenties held. That craving for authenticity is stronger than ever, the longing for a life that snaps and crackles with bright star light and dark red wine, with strong coffee and sweet conversations, deep and real and truer than true, that is stronger than ever. I am done with glossing life over, always trying to make it seem perfect and beautiful, for more than ever I am truly understanding that the beauty comes out of the ashes, the broken, the words spoken when things are hard and just plain suck. More than ever I'm understanding just how much I'm stripping the beauty and authenticity away when I don't admit that I am not always being honest with the words crafted. Often crafted to form a pretty picture of perfect spirituality, and a sticky sweet life. That's not my life. Oh, sometimes it's pretty dang close to being amazingly perfect...for like half a second...and then reality comes crashing back in and I remember just how imperfectly perfect this thing we call life is. And I am not immune to the imperfection. I wouldn't want to be.

I haven't been, the last few months especially. I have felt like my feet bore weights as I trudged through knee deep quick sand that was trying to suck me under. My soul felt as dry and cracked as the sahara, and the grit filled my mouth. I have trudged through soul deserts before, but this time felt different, and I have ridden the roller coaster of emotions, giving in and letting the anger wash over me. I'm still pretty dang angry about a whole lot...and I'm finally allowing myself to ask some really hard questions to a God who is bigger than the answers that I may never get. And that's ok. I get this whole thing about Him knowing me inside out and working all things for my good, but for the first time ever, I'm not glossing this thing over, and I'm allowing myself to really deal with the nasty stuff pushed down deep. For the first time I'm beginning to understand that it's really, really, really, ok to be angry and let myself feel that...but, the trouble comes from staying in that place too long. That's not what the journey is about. Hence why it's called a journey, right? It's a constant push through deserts dry and valleys lush and green, a constant forward movement up mountains surrounded by sweet, crisp air, and down again into jungles deep. It's all about the journey, never stopping to settle in the dry desert (good grief, let's not do that, this place suuucks) or any other place we may pass through. It's about keeping up the whole one step at a time thing, the whole never give up, fight the good fight, run the race set before you with eternity in sight, thing.

It's about all of this and so much more.

Sitting here in this little cabin on this great big lake, these are the thoughts that swirl all around. Surrounded by trees reaching long limbs to brush against this tin roof, all I can think about is how important it is to be authentic about where I am. Where we all are really. It's about connecting and remembering how much it matters to crack open our souls. To remind each other that the journey isn't perfect, and dang it hurts sometimes...but, at the same time, it's the most incredible thing we've been given. It's about being reminded that this God who knows us is greater than any box we try to force Him into and He can handle the questions. He can handle the doubt. He can handle us. And me. Most of all me.

Yeah, it's about all of this and so much more.