Wednesday, October 2, 2013

surrendering perspective

I thought for a long time that writing a book meant that the author had it all together.
I also thought for a long time growing up that being a parent meant that the adult had it all together.

The idea that experts are the published is one that always made my dream stay tucked on the back burner for the day when I would be grown up enough. I told myself that I couldn't be an expert until I had lived a certain number of years to make myself credible. Until I got over certain issues that keep following me around as thorns in my side.

I also thought, once upon a time, that I couldn't be a mother (again) until I got it right and that it was sheer grace to be given this one, but that I needed to shape-up and get it together to be credible enough for two.

And so the idea of putting myself out there before I perfectly have it all together is super scary.

The publishing process takes a long time, I'm learning, so to write a manuscript and then go through the months of waiting until the public sees what began as a project of sorts, means one might have changed her mind about what she wrote, or moved beyond it.

What if it's not relevant at that point?
What if it doesn't make sense and the context is lost?
What if I've grown since then, and . . .
What if this Real truth-spilling-out just exposes that maybe I'm not all grown now, or . . .
What if it all makes people question whether I have grown at all. 

These questions gnawed at me and kept me quiet and still.

(Clearly, the fear of what people *might* think about me has obviously been a blockade to this God-sized-dream.)

It's time, though . . .
To step forward and share.
To risk failure, and . . . Pursue.

I am realizing that many most authors don't have it all together and for many, the act of writing out thoughts is a way of processing out-loud. Their strung-together words are a means of helping them consider a perspective he or she hadn't had before. The writing they do is usually for their benefit, first.

Women who are brave enough to stand in the arena -- to be naked about their struggles -- are showing me that this vulnerable place saddled up with this-is-me confidence (even shaky as it may be) . . . is Real worship. And that parenting does more for us in its humility than we can ever do for our kids.

I'm learning that there is power in story and that relationship is inspired through the way story brings others in, drawing close to the heart because he or she can relate to our Real selves.

Relationship happens when we realize we're not alone. And in this, a warm community embraces.

Truth reminds me: we are all in process.

So, I'm working on a semi-biggish project writing a book. I don't know how it will be published, or if, or when. Or what will come of my days afterward. But I know I have a story to share and that this will inspire connections and envelop community.

Someone might consider a perspective she hadn't before because of my own story telling, of my scars.

I'm also trying for another child of our own. I don't know who will come of this trying, or if, or when. But I know I have this story of surrender and acceptance and perspective changing that has led me to here -- to the surrendering of these scars, and the trusting that He has shaped them for His glory.

This is day 2 of stepping forward -- of pursuing. #ThisIsMyWorship

"It takes the valley of humiliation to root the skepticism out of us.."
--Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest

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