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Young woman pulling hat down over face, close-up, b&w

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to write
without a single thought given to what others will think.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to speak
without a single thought given to what others will think.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to love
without a single thought given to what others will think.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to just be me
without a single thought given to what others will think.

~

It’s a late, cold Friday night and I’m writing raw. Honestly, I’m looking for a place to sneak in a blog post—not for the sake of having one more post under my belt, but I’m kinda hoping you won’t read this.

Even within my journey and ministry of vulnerability—I still want to hide.

And so I’m hiding here.

I know it doesn’t make sense, right?

I mean how does anyone successfully hide on a public blog? But I’m banking on those blog rules. The rules that tell me a Friday night post is bad for blog traffic. The rules that tell me no one has time to read blog posts on weekends, especially when it’s the busiest time of year. After all, you have better things to do this time of year—like shopping and baking cookies.

So, this is where I will hide—right smack in front of you. With the hopes you won’t be watching my awkward moments. And if you do, my hope is for grace—lots of it.

I’m in a season of maturing—growing up. I feel like an adolescent boy (?) whose body is changing into a man, but his voice still sounds like a child. The more he talks he discovers the striking contrast of his high-pitched-sometimes-cracking-voice-is-to-his-developing-body. And the whole package just isn’t a match.

And as peculiar as that analogy is for me to relate with, I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind all day.

The truth is I have some kinks to work out. Some wrinkles to iron. Some wings to bust out of a cocoon. (and so on). And like that teen boy, my {writing} voice is changing and I am transforming and I need a safe space to morph. And this space, well, it really is safe. It is much like a sanctuary. I’ve come with my mess—and you’ve accepted me and given grace. I love grace. So, in many ways, this space is safe because of you. That is a fact I would never want to hide from anyone. So, thank you.

But unlike other bloggers, who will take a sabbatical and disconnect from this public part of their life. I’m choosing to stay here. I will keep writing and let my new grown-up, true me voice get through all the squeaks and cracks it will take to find its mature, strong, and solid tone.

So all this means I will be writing more and posting at bizarre times of the day that break all the blog rules—and maybe even your rules. And one of the things that stop me from writing more is disappointing you—and annoying my wonderful subscribers by making your inbox squishy full.

*sigh*

But if I’m going to get to the place where I can write, speak, love, and be me without giving thought to what others think…well, then this is one of those moments I need to push through the adolescent high pitched voice to believe it will grow strong and smooth on the other side.

I have just under a 100 unfinished blog posts. Yep, it’s true.

Actually, they are more than just blog posts. They are each a significant part of my journey. And yet, I’ve left them incomplete because sometimes I. didn’t. know. what. you. would. think. of. me, or because I couldn’t find just. the. right. words. to convey my heart, and still other times because it all felt to painful to stay in my chair and just write. the. mess.

And it’s not about finishing what I started, or honing my craft. It truly is about personal transformation. It’s about discovering who I am. And I discover best when I am writing.

I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say. –Flannery O’Connor

This seemed like the best time to start this raw journey. To hide {publicly} in the midst of your holiday shopping, cookie baking, and present wrapping. Precisely at the time of year you are too busy to notice my awkward adolescent growth spurts {or stumbles} I am most likely to have.

And hopefully, after we celebrate the dawn of a new year you will look in from time to time and see what has become of me. And maybe {hopefully} there will be some sort of glimmering evidence of my emerging into a mature, grown-up woman with her true voice declaring her healed hallelujah. {Please Jesus}

So, here I go. It’s time—time for me to stay in my chair and write till my true voice comes through.

Thank you for grace. Thank you for being my hiding place while I write it all out.

Hiding right in front of you,
Laura

Photo Credit:© Laurence Mouton/ès/Corbis

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