I generally take a long time before putting up a blog post. I take a lot of time to write my thoughts down, then to re-write it in a way that makes sense to people who don't live in my head like I do, cut out a lot of unnecessary back story (like this one, which I generally would have gotten rid of after reading it over again for the 60th time) and then I get stuck on the title. I'll admit, one of the major reasons I haven't put anything up here since July is that I've been avoiding it because I know how long the process takes me. With school having just started and all, I just forced myself to forget about it.
Tonight, however, I wanted to write something that struck me so suddenly that I knew I had to get this down. I started by trying to come up with a title, but as soon as I hit the back space on my original one, I knew I would sit here forever until I got the "perfect one", or give up altogether thinking I'll just write it another night (or 6 months from now). Therefore, I went with not over-thinking it. Hence my title. I'm sticking with it.
Now that we've covered the unnecessary back story (I'm almost sorry I'm not cutting it out), let's get to what I really wanted to talk about...I'm not sure how to sum it up in one statement, so let's just jump into it with both feet, shall we?
I really enjoy writing. Ever since I was a young girl, I would make up stories in my head and I wanted to share them with everyone else, so I started writing. I remember my English teacher in middle school really encouraged me in it, so I kept going. Writing soon became my escape, and my therapy; it was the only place where I could venture into the depths of my heart without being afraid. I soon knew myself completely and was confident in who I was.
Then high school began, and I just got busy with life. I knew how much time writing took up, so I eventually stopped and focused all my energy on school. However, life didn't just get busy, it got hard. I was thirteen, going through a lot of changes in my relationships, emotions, how much time I was spending on the computer, the stuff I was reading/watching, what I felt about myself...everything. And I had stopped writing. I wasn't processing my feelings anymore, I wasn't dealing with anything anymore. I stuffed everything down further and further, pretending that none of it was important enough to actually deal with it.
It wasn't until just a few months before I graduated from the Honor Academy that I started writing in my journal consistently again, and I saw the difference. It was in that time where I started cleaning out my attic and began claiming my freedom, freedom from a deep hurt that had impacted my life at 12 years old (didn't I stop writing at 13?).
All this to say, I believe that writing is an integral part of who I am. I believe that God created me in such a way, that to stop writing is to stop my heart from pouring out and thriving. Does that even make sense?
I said that I knew myself through writing, let's talk about that a little more. I'm not sure what switch gets turned on in my brain when I begin to type, but I just get everything in my head out on paper. How do I explain this? For some reason, when I write I always push myself to go deeper. When I wrote my stories, how do I explain this? I got to know myself better than I ever had before. I don't know what it was, but when I wrote those fictional stories, I suddenly understood what I wanted out of life. I knew my hopes, I understood my dreams, I saw my desires, I recognized my fears and realized my doubts. It was like meeting myself for the first time, for the tenth time (does that make sense?). It's exhilarating now that I think about it, but I knew who I was. Who at twelve years old can say who they are?
Maybe I'm called to write and to use it to glorify God, maybe I'll just be a blogger with the random person in Germany that reads this besides my friends, but I can't stop writing.
But I did stop.
Did anyone else notice?
Jully 22nd. That was the last time I wrote anything for anyone besides school. Is it any wonder I've been spiritually asleep as well? More than anything, writing keeps me accountable to myself. When my heart is laid out, virtually bled out on paper, it's an insult to reject it and pretend I didn't mean it. I can't look at my past writings and say "Nevermind" to the promises I made, to the feelings I had.
Sometimes, I forget I'm real. I mean I just go through life and do what I'm supposed to do until I don't have to. But writing reminds me that I am real, that I'm a person and need to deal. With life. With me. I just need to deal and live. Thrive.
Now I'm rambling. Will anyone read the rest of my posts again after this one?
This is what I wanted to write:
I have to write.
When I write, I'm reminded to be present and to fight to live. Without it, I become complacent and forget that there's more to life than getting up in the morning and making it back to bed at night.
There's a God who loves me. His name is Yaweh, the only true living God.
He has a plan for my life.
He created me for my destiny.
He wants me to remember that I'm here.
To remember that I'm living.
To move forward.
To claim my freedom.
He wants me to remember the victory He won for me on the cross.
I'm not in this battle alone.
He loves me.
Oh how He loves me.
Yes, I need to write. If only to remember that He loves me. I need to write.
What did my Yaweh create you with?
He created the sun and the moon. He created the earth and the sky. The animals. The clouds. The stars. every atom, element, cell and breath in your lungs He created. He created it all with a purpose, and something to drive that purpose forward. If God did that with things, how much more did He create in you, His chosen one?
What is it He gave you to remember who you are and why you're here? Have you stopped like I did? You should start again, awkwardly break the ice again like I did with this post. I won't be surprised if God uses it to help you claim your freedom like He did with me.
