Once again, I have so many thoughts running through my head at one time I struggle to get them all out in a way they’ll make sense. But I will start by saying that my recent reads on various websites have left me inspired to start writing again.
It started with Crosswalk. Every now and then I get what I call a guilt spasm. Technically, a spasm is a sudden involuntary muscular contraction or convulsive movement. And while I do have moments in which my facial gestures resemble that very definition upon dealing with certain individuals, this really isn’t the type of spasm in which I’m referring. No, I’m talking about a sudden realization of thought…or, rather, the sinking in of said thought. And, yes, sometimes they’re painful.
I came to terms with the divorce long ago. Do I get twinges of guilt with regard to the children? Occasionally. There will always be an element of sadness that my children now come from a broken home. Do I think I’ve lost favor with certain others? Pffff…oh yeah. But that’s best left off the table right now. Do I think I’ve lost favor with God? No. I have never once felt His love or presence leave my side. But every now and then an article will cross my desk concerning Christian relationships, namely marriage, and I get pulled in. Be it an old habit, continual validation for choices made or taking notes for future reference, I am still drawn to the topic.
Recently, I read The Unraveling of a Christian Marriage: Why I’m Not Staying Forever by Elisabeth Corcoran. I won’t summarize since I included the link (it’s a brief read, just go for it). Bottom line, this was a validation for me with regard to my own failed marriage. I didn’t need it, and I won’t say it was good to read someone else’s misfortune, but there was certainly a moment of “Yes! Somebody gets it!” Furthermore, change one or two details and our stories are jaw-droppingly similar.
But what really rekindled my love for writing was poking into her life. She has a website, a blog, and has written a few books. I like her writing…real life stories written in a style that speaks to me…as if she’s sitting right next to me telling me over coffee. What’s more is that I get her…I get her style, her experiences, even her vernacular. And it’s the inspiring force behind my picking up my journal writing again.
Journaling always made my walk more steady for some reason. I think it’s the accountability. I write the truth, the truth stares back at me and either I like what I see and look upward smiling or I don’t like what I see and know I have some work to do. Either way, it keeps me in the moment and it keeps my focus in the right place.
So, here I go again.
