i want to get this right

I have wrestled through each of these posts as I've begun telling my story. I've spent hours writing and rewriting. I've had a friend look them over and make changes. I've slept on them and come back to make more edits the next morning. It's been hard to write them because it's forced me to sit in the hurts all over again. It's been difficult because of the responsibility I feel to the ministry I love, and my desire to represent her well. And it's been impossibly hard because of the weight I feel in how I speak about Niel.

I feel an undeniable tension between wanting to remain honoring of my husband and sharing authentically about what happened and how it's affected me.

I'm laboring over every word I write because I need to get this right. I want to get this right.

And yet I know that without me dressing it up at all, the truth is ugly. It's shocking. It's devastating. Even in the simple telling of facts in the most tactful and respectful way possible, it can seem like I'm being malicious.

But that certainly isn't my intention.

I hope my true heart shines through my words even as I share about the worst season of my life. I pray that in my transparency, you can see more than just my pain. I hope you can also see the love I still have for my husband and my unshakable desire to honor him even in this.

It's been a scary thing for me to feel so vulnerable and exposed by putting my raw heart out there for the masses to see and give their two cents on. But while it frightens me, I crave authenticity. It's been the single greatest intentionality of my blog---to foster authentic community. To share transparently and in doing so, make others feel safe, free, and comfortable to be transparent in return.

So I am committed to continue writing honestly and authentically about my story, while remaining mindful of how my words affect and reflect my ministry and my husband.

And I will continue to choose to honor him.

Because ultimately I desire to honor Him.

pageantry

I bet you didn't know I've been in a pageant. But not the kind you're probably thinking of. I've never strut around in a bikini and heels, or shown off some obscure talent, or publicly declared my desire for world peace.  No, I've never been in that kind of pageant.

My life has been a pageant of a different kind. One in which I've been crowned all sorts of things other than Miss America. I've worn banners draped across my chest that read:

Or how about:

I've walked around wearing those banners for far too long. They've shaped how others see me and, more importantly, how I see myself.

It's time to take them off and replace them with truth.

His banner over me is love.

my own personal black hole

I've been breathing in deeply for the past two weeks, and not just because of the crisp air of the Pacific Northwest. God's been breathing new life into my dry bones as I learn to depend on Him more and allow Him to love me through His people. Even though my crap sneaks into my luggage and unavoidably travels with me wherever I go, the time away still gave my heart a bit of a reprieve.

The rolling waves on the pebbly beach resounded His faithfulness. Whispers of love and syllables of support spoke His heart to mine. I felt His compassion in long, tight hugs and gentle touches. The city lights reminded me that He cares about even the little things.

I saw Him and heard Him and felt Him. And I was made aware again that He sees and knows and cares.

While I hate this place I find myself in---my own personal black hole that seems to render me invisible, slow my heartbeat, and make it impossible to see a way out---I know He's in it with me. Sometimes it's so dark I can't see Him. Sometimes it's so quiet, I can't hear Him. Sometimes it's so hollow and lonely, I can't feel Him. In those moments, I know it will be a miracle if I come out the other side of this.

And I know that if I do, I definitely won't come out standing.

Because I'll be in His arms.

face time

Have you seen Dentyne's current ad campaign?

I think it's sheer creative genius. Mostly because it deeply resonates with people. And while it doesn't make me want to blow bubbles with Dentyne gum, it does make me want to put down my laptop and enjoy some face time.

Living in Africa for over a decade, the internet has been my life source for connections. Most of my friendships have never been sustained with phone calls, coffee dates, lunches, or visits. Instead, they've been cultivated with emails, instant messages, blogging, and video chats.

Lately I've heard a lot of dialogue about whether or not community can be found online. This much I know is true: It can. I'm grateful for the rich, genuine friendships that I've fostered over the internet.

But while I appreciate the value of "technologically advanced" friendships, I also recognize the significance of what I've missed in actual face time. A text message communicates far less than a long, tight hug. A phone call pales in comparison with the unspoken expressions of a glance or a touch. An online chat is merely a shadow of a chai-in-hand conversation on a coffee shop couch.

I'll always be grateful for whatever form of connection and affection I'm blessed to have. But whenever possible, please can I have some face time?

'Cause, seriously... What I wouldn't give for a hug like this today---

meet dwayne

There's a certain Starbucks I visit fairly often, usually for hours on end with my laptop, journal, or Bible coming along for company. And there's a certain older gentleman who visits there just as regularly as I do. Dwayne's guaranteed to be found reading a newspaper, playing sudoku, or taking a nap in the middle of either. The other day I pit-stopped in a Starbucks on the complete other side of town. As I pulled into the parking lot, I spotted a familiar face enjoying a smoke outside. What was Dwayne doing here?!

"I feel like I've been caught cheating on my wife," he said when he saw me. He chuckled; I looked away and smiled.

In a strange city where I know practically no one, I was caught off guard by running into someone I "know". Made me realize just how long I've actually been here, and the fact that three months is a pretty long temporary.

I'm back in my usual Bux today after a bit of a hiatus. And Dwayne's not here. I wonder where he is, and if he's okay.

And I wonder if he's wondered the same about me.