"I miss your writing. "
Me too, I thought. My sweet husband has been gently guiding me back to my love for writing, back to my keyboard. I have tried to write for nearly two years, yet words have been reluctant to come. Questions have been plenty and answers few.
It has been my intention to carve out time to create in word form but my attempts had little success. Early morning writing rhythms were not for me and the sporadic attempts held nothing but air to the wind. In my journey I have found the beauty and value of life giving words - words worth reading - comes from discipline and intentionality, mixed with heart and vulnerability, and God's inspiration setting the table, all which seemed to be off kilter.
This year has been the hardest by far to any other, as some know bits and pieces of. The only word I can use to describe it as accurately as possible has been hell, yet it has brought about and catapulted me to a new rhythm that only by God's grace could come out of the mess, as He has been rebuilding. Echos from Jubilee by Maverick Music have resounded in my soul the last few months:
Listen up, for the season's changing
He's rebuilding everything
Listen for the people shouting, "This is Jubilee, yeah".
With the word of God at the forefront and the promises of God hung around my home the last few months I have been understanding more about jubilee and words have begun to spin and weave, coming to life again, like a spinster spinning her raw, disheveled ball of wool, into something worth using. Something to bring warmth and comfort to those under its weight.
Lying in bed with thoughts streaming, words birthing and a smile spreading across my lips, a nod to what seems like ages ago. Words have been stringing themselves together as my mind sooths itself to sleep for as long as I can remember, as I hurry to write it down before my eyes shut. The thrill of the catch before sleep brings life to my bones and a peace in my heart like no other and I am grateful. Words are something that God has given me. I have seen the power and encouragement and love that they hold. A gift that is not to be mishandled or rushed into, like we see with keyboard warriors and endless posts that leave nothing but a bitter taste in the mouth.
Words carry purpose and should be guarded as such, something I am trying to remember daily conversations, especially with my children. Taking a break from social media and the rushes that come from sharing and commenting has been like a breath of fresh air this year, keeping words fewer and more direct to those in my corner and meeting in person. You still will not find me on social media much for now, as I cozy back into this spot and ease into new rhythms.
I had shared in this podcast about curating my walls with the truths of scripture, which proved even more potent after this past spring. My design shifted from individual chalkboard to printed signs to save space, as I wanted to have it posted in each of my children's rooms and hung on my bathroom mirror, so I created a compellation of the Identity Passport from the Inspire Shop and had it printed. Perhaps it will show up in the shop in the future.
Praying we would find our words. Praying we would be slow to speak, slow to be angry and quick to listen to the words of others. Praying we would use our words with intention and keeping in step with the Spirit, brining comfort and peace.