Ready...I guess

There. I've done it. I've started a blog.

I've started this blog not because I think I am all-wise and all-knowing, and therefore have A Message For the World. I started it partly because on occasion, I have something to say. But, I don't want to be pushy, and I'm terrible at face-to-face communication. So if someone voluntarily reads this, they can't rightly accuse me of pushiness. I mean, they CAN accuse me of it, just not RIGHTLY. And, since it's writing, I don't have to worry about being tongue-tied. I can untangle my tongue when I go back through and edit. How I wish we could edit face-to-face conversations. The most wealthy man in the world would be the man who could hit the 'delete' button on something he shouldn't have said.

Another reason I'm writing this blog to help me learn. I've kept a prayer journal for years, and have come to notice a definite trend in my thought patterns. Namely, until I write something down, I don't have a thought pattern. Suppose someone I cared about said or did something that upset me. I would more than likely put it out of my mind in a few days, and then forget about it. Then, a few days later, I'd find myself anxious or worried or irritable, but most of all, confused, because I couldn't figure out why I felt anxious, worried, etc. So I'd pull out my prayer journal and inform the Lord of my mental state, just to make sure that He realized I couldn't figure it out. I mean, He might have overestimated my emotional-sorting-capabilities. Or perhaps He had not been paying attention to me the last few days. Really letting things slip, you know.

For some reason, when I'm all confused like that, I start thinking that God must be confused, too. Which just offers further evidence that I'm really, genuinely, and utterly confused.

So I'd begin writing to the Lord, and as I did so, the putting-of-thoughts-to-paper would begin to solidify things. Written words have the benefit of being solid. Scripted sentences are solid. Suddenly what kept floating around in my brain like a gaseous and almost entirely senseless cloud had been transformed into something real and definitive, and my brain had one less cloud in it. One cloud at a time was turned into a solid, filling several pages of my journal, and then at some point, all the clouds were written down, and I could look down at the pages and see the substance, the real dramedy that had been going on in my head. Suddenly I "got" what my problem was, and what's more, it was no longer in control. Like that country song that I couldn't get enough of when it came out, "It's no longer inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to."

Writing helps me sort out other things, too. If I try to write down a description of a beautiful sunset, it turns into an observation on the beauty awaiting us in Heaven--something I hadn't neccessarily been thinking of until I started writing. Something that I hadn't even thought of before, perhaps, but something that I always would from that point on. Hence, when I write, I learn. I grow. I discover.

This is a season in my life when I'd like to be growing more. God's been whispering to me a lot lately. That is, if He says anything at all (this has also been a season of Heavenly silence, of the deafening variety). I have a theory. No--not really a theory, because this theory does have a certain amount of experiential evidence backing it up, in the form of "this happened last time, and the time before that." I guess this is more of a hypothesis. I have a hypothesis that if I obey the whispers I'm hearing now, I'll be able to hear more whispers as I need them. Taking one step in the direction of the one little bit of light I've been granted will, I hope, lead on to another little bit of light. God has whispered about blogging to me, and how He meant me to write for Him.

I've tried telling Him, over and over, that He's being unreasonable. I mean, I've queried for my novel multiple times, and surely being a published novelist would be the best way for me to be His writer. And everyone and their mom has a blog these days, so it's really an oversaturated market. Basically, I think this is a bad, nonsensical idea. But He seems to disagree. He seems to think I should blog, and let Him worry about what way is best in this grand tapestry He's weaving. So, with only a whisper, and not much else, I begin.

I don't know what direction this little scheme will end up taking. I don't have any light for anything beyond getting this thing up and running, and that light is about to run out as I wrap up this first post.

So, there you go, Abba. I'm not sure where You're going with this--but that's why I titled it ready when You are. Because You're ready, so I guess I am, too.