Friday, October 14, 2016

Season of Silence.

To say I’ve been quiet this year would be an understatement. I’ve been more than quiet... I’ve been dead silent.

Sorry.

This year, in all honesty, has crushed me. Flat. This crushing has been so fresh, so gruesome, and so intense at times that the only way I knew how to keep going was to crawl into a hole and hide. But hiding... meant remaining silent. Silent, meant leaving you all in the dark with me. 

For that... I’m sorry.

This dark, self-inflicted exile made it impossible for many of you to pray accurately or fight this battle with me. I regret this mainly because there have been massive praise reports along the way that I failed to share. And you have not had the chance to be encouraged with me.

For that too... I’m sorry.

Honestly, there were times I had much to say but felt no freedom to share. It was as if I had been muzzled by the Lord. At other times, I remained silent because I no longer trusted what would come out of my mouth. Sometimes, however, it was sheer exhaustion or busy-ness that made finding the time impossible.

For that and so much more... I’m sorry.

But mostly, I’m sorry because I feel like my silence has somehow distanced us.

Please forgive me.

Oh my most faithful prayer warriors and my most passionate supporters, I have failed you. I have selfishly kept this dark, soul sucking hurt and frustration to myself. I didn’t feel like I could share it with you.

I am convinced (then and now) that much of what I have had to deal with was too gruesome and raw to share in anything but a whisper to God.

He had to teach me to pry open my bloodied grip and leave my hurts and pains at His feet. I wasn’t a pleasant lesson to learn. I struggle still.

Had I written... it would have come out in groanings and moanings -- a visceral cry of the broken hearted. The crushed.

Believe it or not, I was afraid.

Not of God, mind you! No. Never that! I was afraid of what you might think. I was terrified of misrepresenting God, stumbling others’ walks, and voicing my pain.

“Afraid? But... why?”, you ask.

How could I be afraid to speak the truth? How could I be afraid to share my life with those who love me?

A fair question.

Oh to those who see love on every side, you are blessed! May that never change! Would it shock you to know I’m not universally loved or appreciated. I have lots of eyes on me. Not all of them are kind or supportive. By sharing... I feared I would equip these would-be enemies with the very tools needed to destroy me.

Silly? Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

Despite this (or perhaps because of this) season of silence, my heart has been strengthened and I’ve finally found the courage to crawl out of this hole.

Like David, I sing “But I have trusted in Your lovingkindness; my heart shall rejoice in Your salvation. I will sing to the LORD, because He has dealt bountifully with me” (Psalm 13:5-6).

In the coming days and weeks, I hope to catch you all up on some of the victories and defeats of this year.

Be forewarned. I’m long passed the point of caring what others might think me. I’m ready to speak. Maybe it will come out as a whisper. Maybe it will be a roar. Either way, my prayer is that it would glorify my Lord.