I’ve been hiding.
Hiding from myself.
Hiding from all of you.
But mostly I’ve been hiding from God.
I haven’t written a blog post in months.
I haven’t written in my journal in what feels like years.
I haven’t written a poem or a song.
Not one bit of reflection or prayer has flown from ink.
I’ve even had a hard time looking at Christ in adoration- that’s what breaks me the most.
I closed that part of myself for far too long and this is what I have to do to face it.
Like I said, I’ve been hiding.
I’ve been hiding from what I feel called to do because not doing it is easier than facing the reality that I may be called to write.
Or that I may be bad at it or (even worse) that I may be good at it.
I’ve spent my time feeling sorry for myself, wondering how so many people can so easily write when I don’t even know where to start.
I wonder what the secret is to getting published or to create a book of poems
(As I say this I realize the irony that I have more than 200 poems just residing in different word documents, and in journals and in notes that I have strewn about waiting to be compiled).
I’m envious over the fact that it seems like the world may not recognize if I have any talent or may not resonate with my voice. Writers crave authenticity and approval in a torturous juxtaposition that we can never really handle- it being our tragic curse.
It’s equally delightful and painful to realize that my words may be read by others.
That I’m called to have a naked heart to the world. Who can stand such vulnerability?
So, I’ve been hiding my light.
The worst isn’t that I’ve doubted myself or that I’ve been dismissive of this desire.
The worst of my sins is that in doing this I’ve turned away from what I believe God wants of me.
to those around me that may have gained encouragement from something I may have written
and I’m sorry to God for being careless with what he has given me.
Please take this public mea culpa as a plea for mercy.
Somehow I know I’m not meant to hide anymore- though I’m scared.
I’ve been hiding under a bushel basket, because it’s safer and cozier and warm.
Who wouldn’t want that?
But Christ doesn’t call us to comfort. He calls us to more. He calls us to embrace our cross and love our pain. He tells us to rise up and follow him. He tells us that we will have trouble and in exchange for our pain and suffering he gives us the desires of our heart.
I don’t want to be afraid anymore, though I’m unsure if I even have anything to say.
I don’t want to shirk from my own light and fear my own voice.
We were created to fully embrace the divinity that resides in our hearts. To follow the path of love and light. To face fear and walk towards it anyhow.
No more hiding.
We were meant to shine.