Category: Meditations & Meanderings

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve had writing ideas form in my mind at odd times. The problem with those odd times has been that they were not times when I could jot down my ideas or talk them out with other people…at least not in that instant. And by the time I could get to a spot to jot them down, sometimes just a few minutes later, they were gone.

I could be concerned about my memory (and maybe I should be!), but this is just normal life for me and has been for, well, pretty much all of my life. “Great” ideas pop in and out of my head in an annoying instant, leaving me wishing I could have a running recording of my brain to reference whenever I wanted to retrieve those amazing thoughts.

But, then I have to ask the question…are they really that amazing?

Long ago, I started praying that God would bring back to my mind any thoughts I’d forgotten that were truly good, true, righteous, and worthy to be shared. I’d forced things enough times to know that sometimes I just needed to let ideas go instead of trying to explain them. There are times when He has brought the ideas back, sometimes in even greater clarity. But many other times, including the last couple of weeks, the ideas have just disappeared, never to return.

I have to trust that they weren’t worthy of sharing.

That realization leaves me wondering about my words on a daily basis. All of those things that I just say when they come to mind. My responses during a discussion or conversation. My spur-of-the-moment ideas that burst from me at a time when I can say them out loud to someone. My answers to questions. My reactions to emotional experiences, both positive and negative.

What if I couldn’t say any of those things immediately? What if I always had to wait at least a few minutes, with life and thoughts and interactions moving on without truly leaving space for preserving those words? How many of those words would endure? How many of the things I feel I just have to say would prove to be truly worthy?

What if we always had to wait? How much would change about our speech? Our relationships? Our interactions?

Sometimes I actually do bite my tongue. I don’t say what I think I should say. What I think would fit so perfectly. And often when I succeed in that endeavor, I find within a couple of minutes that my words would not have been helpful. I discover that silence fit much better.

That’s not to indicate that everything we say is bad. But sometimes waiting, just a few moments even, can make all the difference in our ability to live out the psalmist’s prayer that the words of our mouths and the meditations of our heart would be acceptable to our Redeemer (Psalm 19:14).

We are not forced to wait. But we can develop that habit. We can pause, just for a moment, and listen to the Spirit’s wisdom. We can choose to wait for Him to affirm our words as being a taste of righteousness or convict us of the need to guard our tongues.

That’s a habit I want to develop. I’m far from it, but I want it to be my aim. I hunger to always pause, to hear the Spirit’s voice well, and to have both my words and my silence be a positive contribution to the nourishment and encouragement of those around me.

I don’t have to wait. But I want to choose to wait.

I’ve struggled in writing lately. A few weeks ago, I had a couple of days when the words just flowed. They weren’t ready to be published, and I still don’t know where they’ll go, but they poured out of me through my fingers.

Then they stopped.

Some days I’d write and then delete because it just wouldn’t all come together. The thoughts were there, but the ability to communicate them failed me. Other days there was just nothing. No thought. No inspiration. No nothing.

For a writer, that feels bad, something to be overcome. No writer wants to admit to writer’s block, and suggestions abound for working out of a place of blocked creativity or flow.

I wonder sometimes, though, if that is our problem. Whether we are writers or artists or engineers or researchers or teachers or whatever, we spend so much time and effort trying to resist blocked paths. I can’t help but wonder if that very effort ends up contributing to the creation of the blocked paths we so greatly fear. If we experience a void, it is something to escape, never something to lean into and experience.

Could that keep us from discovering new avenues of creativity? Could the fact that I am constantly reaching for so many words be the very thing that keeps me from listening for the words I really need? The words that will take me to the next lesson? The next exploration? The next discovery? The next thoughts to share?

Years ago, the music trio Phillips, Craig, and Dean released a song entitled “Let My Words Be Few.” The lyrics are suitably simple, focused on awe and love for Jesus and the recognition that sometimes basking in His presence is better than many words. I remember chuckling a bit when I first heard the song because it was coming from three pastors. These men rely heavily on their ability to communicate with words. Words make up the core of their professions, both through music and in the pulpit. Without words, they would have quite the struggle on their hands. Yet they recognized that sometimes their words needed to be few.

I miss that truth so very often. Apps like Grammarly fuss at me regularly because of my love for adjectives and adverbs. I like to illustrate and intensify, even when it isn’t necessary. Much of what I say could easily be expressed in half as many words, but why do that when you can make words so pretty? So many words exist. Shouldn’t I try to use as many of them as possible?

That inclination, though, can get me bogged down in words. And then when the words don’t flow, when a thought comes through in a couple of short paragraphs or doesn’t even come at all, I feel as if I’m failing. I’m blocked. And that’s bad, right?

Right??

Perhaps not.

Maybe instead of being a bad time, it’s a time to lean into. Maybe it’s a challenge of trust. If I need words, whether for my own healthy processing or for my livelihood, perhaps the void of words is a signal I’m not listening to the Author of words. The one who gives me the ability to use those words.

Perhaps He’s calling me to listen better.

Am I will to say here I am and listen, with or without words?

I’m struggling today.

I want to publish something, especially after not getting anything up in the chaos that has been our past week. But, I’m tired, words aren’t flowing very well, and I’m not even doing a great job of processing old stuff to edit. In all honesty, none of that stuff feels “real” for today. It was real and genuine at one time, and it will be again. But not today.

Here’s the deal: I like things neat and tidy. Orderly. Give me a good routine, a nicely ordered checklist, a structured week, and a place for everything with everything in its place, and you’ll have a happy Ann.

So, just out of curiosity, how often has even one full day been nice and tidy for you? Yeah, me neither. It might be desirable, but it’s not ever real. We try to make it reality, though, don’t we? Especially those of us who are ordered, structured people. Whether on a blog, via social media, or even on Sunday mornings when we head to church, we like to give others these neat and tidy snapshots of our lives. Lessons learned and wrapped up in a bow. Thoughts that are complete and full and structured. Smiles that say we’re fine and blessed and everything is going great!

On the one hand, that’s what I want to give today. It’s what I wanted to give last week, too. I knew the week was going to be chaotic, messy, and exhausting, so I intended to have multiple posts scheduled and ready to go, posts that reflected those structured thoughts or tied up lessons or abundant blessings. (Don’t get me wrong, I do have structured thoughts and solid lessons learned and abundant blessings. But, they are never that simple and straightforward.) Instead, I ran out of time. So, I ended up sharing nothing.

Then I sat down this morning to remedy last week’s neglect, and I hit a wall. I didn’t know what to share, either in fresh writing or in edits of my backlog. I don’t have a whole lot of brain power this morning after the exhaustion of last week, so I figured I’d just find something to share that says, “Hey, I’m back!”

Except I want to be real.

I want to be seen. I want to be known. I want to share what I’m experiencing and learning. But I often find myself wishing that I could be seen and known without revealing that my real life is messy and untidy, despite my best inclinations. I want real life to be that neat, tidy, bow-on-the-top package so that I can be honest and be orderly all at the same time. (For the record, I can’t even tie a pretty bow on a gift, so that mental image does make me laugh a bit!)

But it’s not. I cannot be known and seen without admitting the mess. I cannot honestly share genuine thoughts this morning without admitting that I’m just plain tired. Oh, I can find something I’ve written in the past and tidy it up for you, but it will not reflect me right now.

Sometimes that’s okay. Sometimes it’s better to wait until I can give something that’s a little more complete and whole, a little tidier, and a little more coherent. Sometimes you don’t need to see the mess.

But sometimes you do. Because the honest truth is that life is messy for all of us. And we’re all learning and growing through that mess. And if all we ever share is the pretty — and complete — packages, then we’re not being real or honest with one another. And as a result, we’re not encouraging one another.

So, here’s me being messy and untidy. Here’s me letting you know that after a week that was exhausting and chaotic — although also really good — I don’t have a lot to give or even a lot of ability to receive. But I’m here. And today is a “real” day. And that real day is part of what contributes to the learning and growing, the thoughts I can share and the lessons I’ve learned.

If you’re in the middle of messiness or exhaustion or chaos, know you’re not alone. And know that this is part of real life. This is part of growing. This is part of truly living. Part of the puzzle pieces that come together to give us thoughts and lessons learned. Part of what enables us to encourage and strengthen one another in the journey.

That’s what I have today — the realization that even in the mess and exhaustion, there is something to share. When I struggle, I still have to try. Wherever you are today, I hope you can find the encouragement to do the same.

Yesterday I wrote over a thousand words before I ever started writing an actual blog post. I have no idea what I will do with what I wrote first. It doesn’t really fit anywhere right now. It’s just there.

Today I wrote another 1800 words before starting this blog post. It doesn’t fit with yesterday’s writing, I don’t think, so it’s not like I can put it all together. It could be the introduction to a book. Maybe. If I can figure out how to flesh out the rest of the idea. But I don’t know. It’s just there. It’s just thoughts that poured out of my head randomly, exploding from a place that has been buried for a long time.

I’ve always wanted to be a writer. I vividly remember being ten years old standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes while mentally writing an instruction manual for washing dishes. (Yes, please laugh. It’s hilarious.) Later, I kept a notebook where I hand wrote portions of stories that filled my head.

But I could never go anywhere with the stories. I had bits and pieces, but nothing real that I could truly form into a plot or a point. Having heard “real” writers talk about how their stories almost wrote themselves, I figured I wasn’t a “real” writer. I was just a wannabe writer. A fake. No need to waste time on such nonsense if I wasn’t a real writer.

And yet, there have been times in my life when the words really did flow. I didn’t always know what to do with them, just as I have no idea what to do with the words that have pounded out through my fingers over the past couple of days. But, I’ve been most healthy as a person — and had the strongest inclination that maybe I am a writer after all — when I’ve let the words just come. When I’ve written them whether I knew what to do with them or not.

The problem is that I like to be productive. To have a purpose for what I do. If the words have no place, why should I waste my time writing them?

But, when I’ve tried to only write what has seemed productive, the writing has dried up, leaving me in seasons where I couldn’t write my own thoughts. Where I had no voice. Where I wondered if I even had thoughts at all any more. Those seasons left me feeling dry and dead and silent and so very far from being seen or understood.

A lesson I’m very, very, very slowly learning is that sometimes productivity has nothing to do with the usefulness of what I produce. Sometimes it has to do with just being good for me, even if it does absolutely nothing for anyone else. Sometimes that really is productive.

That’s hard for me. I’m a people pleaser by nature. And, after all, doesn’t Scripture warn us against thinking too highly of ourselves? So, it’s definitely hard to believe that I should spend any time on an activity that might never do anything for anyone else. How can that be godly? How does that grow the kingdom? How does that even compute?

And yet, I am better today for having written those 2800 words yesterday and today, as well as the words that I know I’ll turn into blog posts. I am healthier. Which means I am more capable of investing in other people. These are realities, but I have to figure out a way to convince myself of their validity day after day after day. Otherwise, I won’t keep writing the random thousand words here and there. And if I don’t keep doing that, I won’t be able to keep writing blog posts. Or processing the thoughts I have in my head that make me who I am and help me engage well with others.

Sometimes it is about me. I don’t like it. I struggle with it. But it’s the truth.

Sometimes it’s about you, too. Sometimes you need to do things solely for the sake of your own health. Your own growth. Your own pleasure, even. Because when you do, you are learning who God made you to be. You’re learning the gifts He placed in you. You’re honing them and developing them. Even if in this moment it feels selfish and all about you, it’s actually about so much more. It really is about honoring God with every single part of who you are.

I’m going to forget this. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but probably next week. Next month. A year from now. I’ll forget it. And I’ll need to be reminded. I won’t want to be reminded, but I’ll need it.

So today, while I’m aware and accepting this truth, I’m saying it.

What truth do you need to say out loud today? What do you need to record? What will you need reminded of next week? I’ll be glad to help. Because this is how both of us will grow. Are you in?