Well, let’s jump right in.
I feel like I’m pulling out my old typewriter from high school, dusting it off, fiddling with the paper feed, trying to remember how to do this. It’s been two years since Rebecca’s funeral and a year since Jessa’s whirlwind birth and 21 days in the NICU (after God saved us both through an emergency surgery at 32 weeks pregnant)- the major events which caused me to lay down my pen for a while.
Many times I started to pick it back up, but couldn’t find my voice.
Flannery O’Connor said “I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.”
And as a life-long journal-er, I’ve always been able to relate to that.
So here I am, after putting the kids to bed (multiple times), with a one-year-old toddling and drooling around the living room… and I type while holding her back from my laptop with my outstretched leg – because if I wait for her to sleep, I will literally never blog again.
Over the last year I kept thinking something profound would come to mind and I would have the perfect thing to say to you all – to reconnect – and bring my blog back to life.
But the perfect words never came. And I realized perfect doesn’t belong here.
I named this space Our Blessed Broken Life for a reason. There is always at least a little bit of brokenness in all of us. Life is messy, and real, and really imperfect.
At least mine is, and I kinda like it that way sometimes. Because in our darkest times the past few years, I realized there is a joy and a beauty and a closeness to God that has only come through suffering. And through lots of mess and chaos and imperfection.
As Elisabeth Elliot said, “The secret is Christ in me, not me in a different set of circumstances.” I’m pretty much studying for my doctorate in that life course. I bet some of you are, too.
The truth is, the last several years have left us
tired exhausted, stretched, more gray up top, and feeling less like we know any of the answers. And yet, we’re continuing to learn to extend grace when we don’t want to.
That patience is something you actually have to practice.
And that we can choose joy, no matter the circumstances.
Nothing profound. Just life.
So I’m gonna line up my paper and try to load it in without any snags, and just get started drumming on the keys. If you wanna join me, you’ll be more than welcome on the journey.
One thing I know: The sabbatical is over.