A challenge

I have been reading about blogging, and what it might look like to be a blogger in the Upside Down Kingdom. There is a button that I could add to take us here but I have no idea how to make it work, which is frustrating in the extreme. It is about a cry for truth and for Truth. For meeting with the Spirit of God in the writing and the reading of posts, and finding healing therein. It is a call for a blog to be a place of service, and a place of worship. There is something of worship in an act of creativity, and what is writing if not that? There is no point in this being another place of wearing a mask, or building a wall, or presenting a front. I have stopped practising being vulnerable, and withdrawn into a place where I believe I have to be strong for myself, because there is no one else to do it for me. Isolated though I may feel at the moment, that does not mean that I am alone and abandoned.



This was driven home for me yesterday. I had been trying to ignore the slow leaching of the joy from from my bones. I had been trying to ignore the thief who is after my laughter and my ability to fight. The creeping feeling that maybe it would be easier just to stay in bed. It's not me who can change the world. That must be a mistake, because world-changers don't get stuck in bed, feeling as though someone has stolen their spine. Through my desire not to worry those who love me but are far away, I did not articulate what I was feeling. I think I stopped short of flat-out lying to anyone, but barely. Where did that lead me? To a tear-soaked pillow, on my knees before a God whose voice I couldn't hear properly. Even then, I struggled to ask for help, through a wrong-headed stubbornness and pride that I let myself get away with. It was only when I realised that the tears were not going to stop that I did what Daddy was telling me to do, and phoned one of my best friends. 


He came alongside me, and helped me talk out my fear and my loneliness, and prayed with me and helped me fight. He reminded me that I'm never supposed to fight alone, because I have a Daddy who can always be strong for me when I can't manage it alone. And he reminded me that community isn't necessarily defined by physical proximity; he's a 100 miles away, but really only as far away as my phone is from my fingertips. 


So today, I took advantage of the lack of definition in my days. I soaked for an hour (listening to the wonderful United Pursuit) before I even tried to get out of bed. And do you know what? My peace is returning. God has a plan...