I used to write on a weekly, if not daily, basis. It was not only my creative outlet, but my safe place to express all that was within me – good, bad, and ugly. Selfish, sinful, triumphant, and praise-worthy.
However, over the past few years, my writing slowly faded away until I completely stopped. I didn’t like how or what I was writing, but really I stopped because I mostly didn’t like the reminders. I didn’t want to let things out on paper – because I felt like that made painful experiences became more real somehow.
I succumbed to my seasons of sorrow. I let them overtake me without a fight.
Since I wasn’t writing and because I was angry with God, I turned to other methods of coping with my pain and sorrow – including alcohol and boys. Yet I’ve still been left with the deepest emptiness I have ever felt.
I’m still unsure of how to cope with the wounds and hurts of these seasons, but maybe with time and learning to seek the Lord again, I will receive the healing I need to move forward. And I may start writing and sharing again too.
I’m sure I’ve learned a lot from these seasons, but rather than try to decipher what I’ve learned – I’m going to focus on Him again as I walk out of this dry and bitter time.
My soul is weary with sorrow;
strengthen me according to your word. – Psalm 119:28