How have you been?
It has been a long time since I last blogged, and I might say in my defence, for good reasons.
But they are my own, so you'll just to trust me on this one.
One reason, I will share with you, truthfully.
Sometimes I just feel it doesn't matter.
My words, my feelings, my blogging.
What does it amount to?
Hours of my life spent in front of a computer screen wearing my eyes out....
and for what reason?
We all of us, sooner or later, have to examine the reasons behind our actions.
And sometimes those reasons lead to further questions, which may lead
to some unsettling answers and ultimately, point out something buried deep
that we may not have know lurked in our heart.
I'm gonna peal back the mask for a moment, not because I want you to feel sorry for me,
or even understand me,
but because we need more real people in this world.
I know I do.
So here goes.
I stopped blogging (in part) because I was discouraged.
Because is seemed none of it mattered, it wasn't making a difference.
What made you think that?
I have two followers and only a handful of readers.
I'm wasting my time, I'm must not be a very good writer if people won't read it.
Why does it matter if people read it?
Because I want them to.
And why is that?
So I feel like I'm a good writer, like I'm appreciated.
In other words, you write for attention?
NO. No, I'm not like that! You know me, I grew up the shy wallflower, I don't clamor for attention!
I want others to accept me. To like me.
You have real, present people in your life that accept you, love you.
That's not enough.
Because- because what if they are wrong? What if they are just being nice?
What makes you think that, why do you doubt others love and acceptance of you?
And this is where the truth hit me, it came flying at me like a rock hurled to the head.
But instead of knocking me blind, it cleared my sight so I could see the real issue.
Because...because I don't like myself. I have never accepted myself, I don't like who I am.
And there you have it.
The whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God.
Yes. Please. Help me God.
We may know the truth of who God says we are, and we may know that others love and accept us.
But we can never accept others until we accept ourselves.
We can't truly love others until we love ourselves.
Flaws and all.
We can't give what we don't have.
That is kind of where I'm at.
I'm a bit of perfectionist, I'm always trying to improve myself, and yes, others.
I'm extremely critical of myself, and secretly of others, though to a far lesser degree.
And it irks me.
God used the book The Bluebird and the Sparrow by Janette Oke to bring this self realization crashing into my heart.
All the way through the book the main character, Berta, drove me crazy.
I got upset with her, and thought she was being stupid and irrational about many things,
making bad decisions out of pain that ultimately resulted in more pain.
In spite of this, I could really identify with some of her feelings and coping mechanisms...
her hurts and how she molded her life and herself based on those wounds.
It was just what I needed to hear.
Amazing how He knows that, isn't it?
Truly, I love writing.
Writing is a release and a way of expressing what I can't say with my tongue.
So I'll keep blogging because I want to write.
Even if no one ever reads it.
I'm restraining myself from re-reading over this post, rewriting it, nitpicking here,
deleting there, because frankly, perfectionism is exhausting.
And besides, this is more of a raw post.
It isn't perfect, I didn't labor hours over the wording and grammar.
As I work, with God's help, to accept myself, just as I am, I think I will learn to accept that too.