My counselor recently said to me, “God is full of surprises.”  She’s right.  One of His biggest “surprises” to date has been this gift of writing.  I’ve always written…from my childish Lisa Frank spiral notebooks filled with immature “short stories”-to my angsty teenage diaries hidden under lock and key-to my now ever-growing pile of journals; I’ve always felt a connection between my heart and the written word.  Writing has been my outlet and the way I process.

At times my journals are filled with letters to others, letters to myself and letters to my Abba.  There are pages with poetry, pages with prayers, and pages with four-letter words (if we’re being honest).  And it wasn’t until earlier this year that I started to peel away the ribbon, tear away the wrapping paper and open up the gift box, only to discover God had healing for me in this writing.

It wasn’t a gift I wanted to open.  I stashed it away for a while, simply too afraid.  “What could I possibly have to say,” I wondered.  “What if people judge and criticize me?”  “What if they think my writing is stupid?”  Sharing my stories equaled a vulnerability that scared the hell out of me.  “I’m not ready,” I said to God on more than one occasion.

It all started with a stirring, that gentle God tug on my heart.  The tug became stronger and when I could ignore it no more, I opened my dusty laptop and searched for free blog sites.  I fumbled and mumbled for hours that night, still with a hesitant, anxious heart and shaky fingers.

I’m part of a faith and fitness ministry called Holy Yoga and we have a saying: “Do it afraid.”  So I did.  And I still do.  Because truthfully, it isn’t “easy” still.  I type, I nitpick.  I type, I obsess.  I type, I change.  I’ve been known, in fact, to “publish” a post, only to pull it up first thing the next morning and read it again, searching for errors.  Why do I do this?  I think I’m still afraid.

I won’t dissect those fears here.  I will say, however, that taking the first fear-step opened the door to share my heart alongside a lovely group of ladies at Mind Full Collective.  Which then opened the door to contribute to Cedar and Soul.  And bit by bit, the ruins of my heart have started to rebuild.  Because He knows how I heal.  Doesn’t God always always meet us where we are?  Whether you find Him at the end of a frayed rope, the bottom of a bottle, in a church pew, or on a tear-stained page, He is faithful to show up.  Sometimes in the most surprising ways.