Small words and acts of love
I know I’ve not been consistent with writing posts at all. Life is still happening and I’ve certainly not given up. It’s just been a dry season for writing. And honestly I have no idea what that means. And weirdly, I’ve been pretty content with it. Maybe I’m learning to be kinder to myself. Perhaps I am learning to offer myself a little extra grace. Or it could just be that I’ve been really into cooking lately, and eating so much AMAZING FOOD.
Delicious food has been a pretty awesome distraction. I mean, the weight gain isn’t the greatest, but I was told by a wise woman that’s the sign of a happy marriage. And I guess it’s better to measure my happiness right now over my poundage... My scale is packed away somewhere I haven’t yet found anyway. Or Greg has hidden it from me. My precious husband is learning to protect me from myself. Haha. Anyway, that’s a whole other topic for another day.
But while I’ve been “away” I’ve had several wonderful people that I haven’t heard from in a while, randomly send me messages. They were sent at different times over the last several months. They were from different people of different ages, living in different places and with different backgrounds. They let me know that in some way my words had helped them. The things they read on this blog had offered them bits of encouragement and pieces of comfort. And guys, each one of those messages came at the perfect time for me.
I remember the last one that I read was on one of the bad days. I was laying on my bed and I literally started yelling as I read the words my dear friend wrote to me. Greg looked up trying to figure out if this was the good yelling or bad yelling. My heart was just so full. I mean I seriously could not ask for anything better. How crazy is it that I can type out words on a page and offer someone a bit of comfort?! I mean seriously! At times writing can be painful. I can struggle with feeling insecure. I can feel stupid sharing such vulnerable things about my life. I can lose hope.
But then I have these moments of clarity. When someone shares a piece of their story with me and in some small way, I’ve been able to offer a little love. A little understanding and hopefully hope. And in those moments I know. It’s seriously all worth it. And I have no idea what I’m doing. Who am I to try and write a blog? A badly designed website at that. With pictures that are sometimes bad quality. I guess it was two years ago that I got a random urge to start it. And so I did. And I’ve went through times where I write every week. And then I go through times where I’m lucky to write a post in six months.
But it’s really not even up to me. For me, my job is to just be faithful each day. I think that’s the most important lesson I’ve learned over the last year. I’ve put so much pressure on myself. I have about a bazillion expectations of what I should be doing, who I should be, my future, my jobs, my life. And it gets messy. This life is so messy.
There really are days for working hard and pushing through. For winning battles and fighting hard. But there are other days you simply just survive. When it’s a win to just make it through the next 5 minutes breathing and even that can feel like too much.
I no longer am under the impression that I control everything. I’ve tried that life. And it’s a whole lot of work. And it’s so frustrating. Because this world doesn’t play nice. People don’t play by my rules. And I’m not that “awesome”. I can only push myself so far before I break or shut down.
Grace has become a way of life for me, simply because I’ve discovered there’s no other option. And I’m still recovering from trying to live life without grace. Old habits and ways of thinking can sometimes take a long, long time to die. But without grace, I can’t make it. I just can’t. I can’t do this life on my own.
I guess I’m just thinking about how thankful I am. Thankful that I have such wonderful people in my life. People who take time out of their day to offer me a bit of encouragement. Friends who encourage me to keep writing. Friends who share bits of their struggles with me so that I know that I’m not alone. And that my suffering has not been without purpose.
And just thankfulness that for my God who allows this all to happen in the perfect timing. That even when I’m not “actively” writing, He is still using my words for others. I’m so thankful it doesn’t all depend on me. I can’t line up the timeline of my life to fall alongside someone else’s life at seriously the perfect time.
I so often feel weighed down by the world. Other times it brings me life. It’s big and dark and noisy and wonderful and exhausting and messy and beautiful and chaotic and too much and not enough all at the same time. We meet probably hundreds of people a day. In the store. At our jobs. At school. Walking down the street. In the car next to us. All of those people have stories and passions and struggles and hopes and hurts and thoughts.
It’s seriously crazy to think about. And at certain times, certain things line up just right. And we smile at someone. Send someone a card. Get angry. Feel insecure. Send an encouraging text. Invite someone over to dinner. Laugh at a joke. Offer a small hello. Drive home and feel lonely. Want to give up. Feel no purpose. Feel the weight of the darkness.
Sometimes we can offer something. Sometimes we need something. Sometimes life just simply sucks and we have to endure. But sometimes something small helps. Sometimes it comes from another person. Sometimes it’s just the sun warming our skin.
I don’t know. I feel like I’m rambling a bit. I tend to do that a lot. Especially when I don’t write on a regular basis. But I’m just thinking.
And I’m thinking about how HUGE of a deal it is when we encourage others. Small words and acts of love are really not so small on the receiving end. There have been numerous times that those small things have kept me going. Have brought me the reminders of hope that I needed. Just a little bit of light.
So to finish off the night, I guess I just want to say I’ve not giving up on writing. I’m still here. Still living life and suffering and laughing and taking pictures and breaking all grammar rules with a bazillion “ands” and being silly and having trouble sleeping and COOKING ALL OF THE THINGS and being a wife and cleaning up dog poop and smiling and sewing buttons on shirts and crying and baking and writing when I can.