I'm significantly frustrated with myself that I've taken such a long break from this place. This place is where I tell my story- to you AND to myself. I feel as if I don't even remember all the steps I have taken because I have neglected taking the time to regularly retrace them. I like to remember. But, I will admit, I rebelliously refused to recap my life, for myself or anyone, because it was nothing worth rejoicing over. I was in pain and who likes to tell those stories? I want to be the girl that makes people laugh! Not the girl that strikes people speechless out of sympathy. I took my pain and decided walking quietly in the dark. I assumed it would be best for everyone involved- I would be able to slink through this hard time unnoticed and the rest of the world could go on with their own stories. "No one should be affected by one girl's silly story of silly complaints"- I reasoned. I didn't want others to worry- because they would. I also didn't want to have to continuously talk about the unknown that seemed to dauntingly cause my heart to race and my lungs to wish for more and more air. There wasn't one step that wasn't filled with doubt, and to me, it all seemed easier to get myself put together FIRST, then tell the story of how "I made it out"----if I ever could find the "out".
The ironic part of the climb is- stairs still creak in the dark. My loved ones still saw my pain- so they still worried. And worse, I still stayed in the dark- alone. I put myself there with my walls, and my pity and my anger- and no one got to share in my story. I was a one girl show- and I hurt and I believed whatever I wanted to tell myself about where this journey was going.
Here I was, hurting and complaining and asking God- "Why can't this be fixed so I can be who I wish I was and do what I wish to do?" Well, God has answered that question- and I have stepped out of my little pity room to tell you the answer.
I was made to tell a story- and when I tell that story, whether it's a good one or not, then not only am I doing what I've always wanted to do, but I'm being the woman I wish to be.
I figured my sad walk would only suck life out of other peoples' steps. But the other night- I had called an old friend- because she is such a good listener and I needed the shoulder to finally cry out on, to tear a wall or two down, and that conversation ended with her saying something that stopped me before I retreated back from where I came- "you blessed me tonight". She went on to explain how my story, how my pain, how my tears and what I was struggling to grasp touched her and ministered straight to where she also was carrying some unknowns. It broke my heart in a way that made me really regret my little retreat into the dark. I regretted not sharing my story earlier, to others, to you. I regretted not processing emotion for emotion on paper for future reference, or even present reference for that matter. I had no reference, because I refused to process my steps the way I was designed to process them. I did that on purpose- out of rebellion- because I was mad. I was angry that I seemed so confused with life's little blind curves. Instead of telling the story I was made to tell, I would punish myself by locking it away inside and I would punish others (innocent others,by the way) by locking them OUT.
Well- here's my apology- to you, to me, to my Designer: I'm sorry for hiding my story from those who would have been blessed to hear it, from those who would have been honored to help and from myself who really knew healing would come from such a beautiful process as documenting life in its most common form- HARD. And most importantly, I'm sorry for allowing my rebellion to erase my knowledge of what I was made for. My story has God's glory all over it- because He is faithful and His truth is so healing and He blesses me beyond my vocabulary's capabilities- that during my pity party- God's work was still happening, and I wasn't telling of it! Amazing things have happened, even in the dark. Even when I was sad, God protected and loved and LAVISHED me. I'm tellin you now, you're gonna love hearing what He's done :) (and I bet, you're gonna laugh hearing what I was doing all the while, because it's all quite silly.)
God- give me a good memory- because I am ready to tell the story.
I write to bless,
~Rosie
The ironic part of the climb is- stairs still creak in the dark. My loved ones still saw my pain- so they still worried. And worse, I still stayed in the dark- alone. I put myself there with my walls, and my pity and my anger- and no one got to share in my story. I was a one girl show- and I hurt and I believed whatever I wanted to tell myself about where this journey was going.
Here I was, hurting and complaining and asking God- "Why can't this be fixed so I can be who I wish I was and do what I wish to do?" Well, God has answered that question- and I have stepped out of my little pity room to tell you the answer.
I was made to tell a story- and when I tell that story, whether it's a good one or not, then not only am I doing what I've always wanted to do, but I'm being the woman I wish to be.
I figured my sad walk would only suck life out of other peoples' steps. But the other night- I had called an old friend- because she is such a good listener and I needed the shoulder to finally cry out on, to tear a wall or two down, and that conversation ended with her saying something that stopped me before I retreated back from where I came- "you blessed me tonight". She went on to explain how my story, how my pain, how my tears and what I was struggling to grasp touched her and ministered straight to where she also was carrying some unknowns. It broke my heart in a way that made me really regret my little retreat into the dark. I regretted not sharing my story earlier, to others, to you. I regretted not processing emotion for emotion on paper for future reference, or even present reference for that matter. I had no reference, because I refused to process my steps the way I was designed to process them. I did that on purpose- out of rebellion- because I was mad. I was angry that I seemed so confused with life's little blind curves. Instead of telling the story I was made to tell, I would punish myself by locking it away inside and I would punish others (innocent others,by the way) by locking them OUT.
Well- here's my apology- to you, to me, to my Designer: I'm sorry for hiding my story from those who would have been blessed to hear it, from those who would have been honored to help and from myself who really knew healing would come from such a beautiful process as documenting life in its most common form- HARD. And most importantly, I'm sorry for allowing my rebellion to erase my knowledge of what I was made for. My story has God's glory all over it- because He is faithful and His truth is so healing and He blesses me beyond my vocabulary's capabilities- that during my pity party- God's work was still happening, and I wasn't telling of it! Amazing things have happened, even in the dark. Even when I was sad, God protected and loved and LAVISHED me. I'm tellin you now, you're gonna love hearing what He's done :) (and I bet, you're gonna laugh hearing what I was doing all the while, because it's all quite silly.)
God- give me a good memory- because I am ready to tell the story.
I write to bless,
~Rosie
your words couldn't be more perfect. you bless me daily. and i love the design of your page. its so you :)
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