Wednesday, December 19, 2012

It Is Finished

I have been so unpredictable this year, haven't I?

Well, not to worry. I'm not disappearing. 
My silence is not any indication of some deep concern or void of though, opinion, experience or joy. My silence is merely that it's December 19th and the other day I went to date something as November.

My mind is stuck in some time warp and it's about time I lifted my chin for a bit to look around. This has been a. year.  As a writer, designer, mom, sister, daughter, girl... this year hit me at all joints and angles, and I while at times I found myself struggling to stand, other moments were filled with inexplicable joy.

My mom always sees poignancy in small things. Small things like numbers. For instance, "This year," she reminds me, "is the 7th year since everything happened."

And by everything, she means when my life took a 180 turn down a path none of us anticipated in 2005. One that I wrestle with to this day. 

But she says, "Seven. It's a number of completion, you know." She say this in no strange way. With no twinkle in her eye. But in her way to say, Let's not forget that it is finished.

And while we know that it is finished in the sense of, what has happened has happened. I also know that it is finished as in Christ breathed his last and announced it and secured my hope forever so that it is finished. That kind.

I have felt this gnawing thing in me that it's time to tell some stories. It's time to write about them, and bleed a little onto paper and screen in hopes that redemption will be complete. And I'm nodding that it's complete. I'm resting my elbows back on a firm Gospel that seems to be pushing me toward letting Grace weave my story even more. And I ask, where? Here? Do I come to you readers, who steadily visit, and comment, and email, and whisper… do I bring it to you first? As an honest writer, do I bring the unwritten things here? I don't know the answer, so I bury it in silence and wait.

And I'm ending this year burying lots of things. Which isn't such a bad thing. It's just the honest thing. And while I bury, and cover some things in dirt and dark, I'm also finding that my boundary lines have definitely fallen in pleasant places. 

Madeleine is busy in school, and I'm up to my neck in work with the business, and we are carting around to church and friends and school functions and occasionally I ask myself if the future will look any different than it does these days. But I am stepping my toes over a timeline that for me delineates between what was and what is. And I am thankful for a God who completes things. 

(And pray that I know where to take the stories from here, as things continue to evolve for The Organic Bird, I need to know how to evolve my vision along with it. So pray for me for wisdom? Please?)