I have no fewer than 8 blog updates in my 'drafts' folder.
I've tried to post, but it's just not working.
I'm not quite working, that's what it is.
Something hard is going on and it's a big one.
Posting sad doesn't help, the undertow of the hardship seems to just pull me further downstream.
Posting happy isn't helping, either, because something inside of me thinks that if I take my eyes off the hard thing for even one moment, I will lose sight of where my soul is going.
So, each time I get than nagging reminder to post, I hold my breath and start writing, but I forget to exhale.
Maybe I can't exhale right now, maybe I shouldn't.
This isn't the time or the place to talk about this hard thing that we are working through, but if I don't get back to posting something, I'm likely to stop posting for a long time, and blogging is a good thing. Blogging helps remind us of the best of what we have in our lives and the journey we take.
Blogging is good, even when it's just posts about crap in your house and food you eat.
Blogging is good when it's about weirdness from your past and stress you have about your future. It's good when you're feeling creative and when you're feeling like a hack.
Blogging is good when you feel surrounded by love and it is good when you wonder if even God is listening.
So, I will blog.
I will blog boring, I will blog lame. I will blog silly and smart and I will post bad pictures I took with my phone and amazing shots of places that only I seem to find beauty in. There will be pictures of my kids, of my sweetheart and stories about church and things I remember as I try to sort the stories out.
I will see the things I do have and will stop looking at the things I do not.
I will be thankful and I will have faith that everything is going to be okay and we are all completely lovable by a God who cares about us so much. He weeps with us and he weeps for us, he also rejoices and dances for us.
I have no doubt that God, up there in wherever Heaven may be...... dances.
He dances for you.
He dances for me.
He twirls and spins and smiles with delight right there with us as we learn the steps and feel all of that love he has for us.
When things get so hard that I forget to even breathe, in faith, I will walk across the empty room and turn on the music.
I will follow his lead.