Saturday, August 24, 2013

re-entry

My three year old son looks up at me, foot dangling in the pool, all shivers in the sunlight, water glancing off his little boy hair. “T-t-t-t-oooo  c-c-c-c-old mama.”  An hour of swimming, out for a potty break, and he’s done in on this warm-but-not-hot summer day. You know the drill: in the water, it’s warm. But out of the water, you freeze.

Getting back in would solve the problem, really. It’s warmer in the water. “Get back in!” I urge. “You’re cold because you’re wet in fresh air!” But chilled skin and dripping hair has short memory, and he wants to towel off and be done.

It’s like that for me, lately. For a while I was writing, reading, posting a little more on this blog, immersing myself in the Word, in fresh revelation from friends, from writers whose hearts I love. I was swimming around in Life, in newness, in hopes and possibilities and I dared to dream of future things. New passions were discovered, new opportunities began to take shape.

But this summer, I got out of the water. I took a potty break from writing after my last post, and now it’s SO HARD to get back in. I feel cold and scared of the shock of the water.

Writing is therapeutic for me. It helps me process, God brings revelation, it’s healing. But it also takes time. It takes time for the process to happen, it takes time for things to come to light. It takes practice, forcing myself to sit down and spill out all that’s spinning around inside.

It’s much, much easier to towel off and forget the pool.

But there is life in the water. There’s fun and playing and lots of life to be had in the water. I’m shivering and cold on the ladder, and I guess it’s this: choose to swim, or choose to dry off and dry up.

So I’ll jump in with this post, which has little to no words of wisdom, but is just an obedient response to God’s whispers to my heart. There's more to this story---I'll share that later. He is doing huge things in my life---so big, I’m not sure quite how to unpack it all. Thanks for joining me, friends.


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