I went to my first writing conference this past week, and I met my people. We talked words – oh, how we talked words and sentences, thoughts and meanings – and I made connections, sending out a slew of follow-up emails just this morning.
I listened to Richard Foster, loving his love of words in quoting Twain: “The difference between the right word and the almost-right word is the difference between lightening and the lighting bug.” I mused over what it means to exude (appropriate) vulnerability in our writing, and my insides thumped in confirmation when I heard there is a place for faith and doubt, belief and disbelief in the only story I can tell: my own.
I scribbled furiously in my notebook when Rachel Held Evans uttered these profound heart-words: “People are afraid of grace getting out of hand …but hasn’t it been that way for 2000 years?”
And I said a hearty yes-yes-yes to Saint Anne’s theology, that we are pre-approved, that the story we find ourselves entrenched in is one of life, death, resurrection and new life …life, death, resurrection and new life, over and over again. I pointed a thousand arrows at the only song Lamott knows how to sing, that “…the blessings have been [found] in the dark nights, the lostness, the surrender.”
And I vowed to do the same.
When it comes to the blogosphere, content might slow down a bit, perhaps to three days a week. But this is good. This means that I’m finishing my book proposal, and I’m leaning into research and plopping myself into the chair, typing away at the ol’ laptop, because I can. Because this is who I am. And along the way, I’m remembering that I’m not nearly as important as I sometimes make myself out to be, which is a very, very good thing.
Cheers to this adventure of finding our hearts. Cheers to life-thumping conversations and interactions and connections. And cheers to simply showing up and telling the only story we know how, our own.
What about you? How have you been shown lately that you’re right where you’re supposed to be? How are you telling the only story you can tell, your own?