Why write?

A mishmash of thoughts shuffle left, then right.

I've been sitting behind this laptop for too many hours, pressing the delete key too many times. I want, so badly, to tell you about life as of now. Yet unlike Noah's animals in the ark, it seems neither thoughts nor words can find their match. Blaming cognitive impairment would be easy, but illness is not at fault for everything. Maybe it's my addiction to perfection? Honest paragraphs tumble out and—delete, delete, delete.

Life in real-time is a rough draft; conclusions are few and mistakes are abundant. I'm not ready to show this. So I press save on two sentences and return to my reading.

Friday night I finished a biography on Amy Carmichael, a beloved missionary in India. I saw how she was utterly committed to God, steadfast in her convictions, and often misunderstood because of it. When it came to truth-telling, Amy Carmichael was unswerving. She wrote, "We are so afraid to offend, so afraid of stark truth, that we write delicately, not honestly." I scribbled the quote by lamplight and thought, this is me.

I am afraid. 

As you might've noticed, my writing here is not frequent. I come with summaries not because it's what I enjoy, but because it's easier. I've carefully considered not only my words but your possible opinion of me for so long.

Please hear me, I'm not advocating sloppiness or haphazard writing. I take great responsibility for what I say. Everything could be shared, but not everything should be. And for that reason, there have been times (especially in the last year) where I stepped back to sort through emotions and events privately. 

But, this blog was never meant to be a heavily-edited publication or a museum. It's not a holding place for shiny thoughts and polished words.

My aim here is to give something that is true, meaningful, and in real-time—like the letters or care packages I send friends. Think smaller, simpler narratives. I want to share resources with you, write updates on health, jot thoughts on life lately, talk about uncomfortable topics, and chronicle the challenges (and joys) of staying put or one day, if God wills, my going elsewhere.

I don't know that those are the best reasons to show up and write. But as you see my weakness and know my humanness, I hope, somehow, these thoughts and words might point you towards God. Always, towards Him—the One whose ways are perfect and promises true.

Why write?