It's late and I should most likely be in bed. However, I am squeezing out the little within me to get back to the discipline of writing; because I miss it dearly. I miss being able to share my heart, to weave words together, to challenge myself and give room for us to gather.
And it's this discipline, this resistance often pushing me to give in. It tells me to sell myself short, or to believe I'm not needed. Because sometimes giving in, giving up is easier in the short run. I'm teaching my second cooking class on Monday (which you should hurry and sign up for), and somehow I'm discouraged by it. It could be the lack of inspiration I'm feeling about the recipes to simply feeling inadequate. Isn't that funny?
We can easily feel accomplished, affirmed and confident of calling one moment...and in one fell swoop, we stare into the sea of doubt pounding us on the sea bed.
Our family spent the day a couple weeks back at the beach. It's more like rock beach. Each girl doing their thing, while Ben and I helped them and took moments to take it all in. V is my collector. If she's not keen on a new expedition, I simply say, "you could bring a basket (sub in: bag, purse) and collect items along the way." This day was no different. But, what she came across was sea glass.
We discussed how sea glass became 'sea glass.' It's dependence upon being tossed and beat down by the waves. In the end is this smooth, rustic beauty.
I can relate to it.
Too often I bemoan the process. I ask for the struggle to pass. I, unlike Jesus, often forget to say, "help me God with the struggle." More often, I whine. Because who enjoys going through transformation?
This transformation, this pushing into the hard and continuing to gather with others is what helps me feel normal. Today I confessed these inadequacies to one of my best friends, and you know what she did?
Laughed and pointed--no, she made me feel as though this internal wrestling is not something so uncommon. She spoke words of affirmation and encouragement. Ben did the same as I poured out my doubts about teaching this baking class. And still, there is the work to do to make it happen.
With that, I will resign myself to sleep, make a list of what still needs to get done, in order to become like that glorious sea glass. Who knew that broken shards of glass could look so good?