A little start, a little note
I like my stories clear. Beginnings and endings should be definite like the physical opening and closing of a book. But that’s not how life works, is it? The start and stop of most of our stories are blurry, blending into one another with jagged breaths and trembling hands, uncertainty and backtracking, getting in each other’s way. The start of one thing can be the end of another or they can overlap for much longer than we’d like. It’s messy and chaotic and wonderful in its way. We learn to accept if not embrace it.
I’m starting something new today. Or rather God is (he’s always up to something). Sort of. Old and new. It’s both.
It feels weird to start a new thing by going back to old ways. I thought becoming a new person in Christ meant never looking behind you, leaving the past where it is, and keeping ever towards the horizon. But as God talks to me about where we’re going, I see there are things I lost along the way that we need for the trip. Boldness to speak the truth, vulnerability in connection, strength of my convictions, joy in the work. And so we circle back to pick them up, although it may take a while to find them and make sure they’re still working. That’s okay. We have time.
The clarity of stories depends on giving readers as many details up front as possible. But I can’t do that this time; I can’t tell you exactly what this new story is about. Trying to pin down the hows and whats is how I lost those precious things in the first place. This time, I’m choosing to read the story instead of write it, to be swept along as it unfolds rather than steering the narrative myself. It’s not easy for me, but I’m getting better at it, and although the beginning may be muddled, I so want to see how it ends.