I'm attempting to write this book on singleness, right? But as I come up on a year of working on it, I realize anew how this year for me in my personal life has been a year of abject sifting. Sifting of my need to know why things happen, my mental grappling trying to understand what does not make sense to me, what I think should not be, a fresh upheaval of my insecurities as I try to dive deep, my faith, just everything. I think, objectively, it has been *one of* the hardest years of my adult life, and it hasn't blown over yet. Just a constant struggle for the last 11 months.
I would think one would want to write from a place of victory. You want to communicate light and goodness and an honest path to victory. But instead, I feel like I'm trudging through that Pilgrim's Progress Slough of Despond, and let me tell you, juggling all the parts of a full length book and not knowing what on earth you've written, and wondering if the tone is appropriate (not even if it makes sense!), and wanting to point people honestly (versus through platitudes) to God while still being sympathetic to the struggle, and really, just juggling all the different parts--it's yet another sifting of my lifelong natural bent toward insecurity.
But. I'm still here. He has caused me to still be here. Still enduring. Continually bobbing me up to the surface when I drown and drown again. Knowing exactly how much I can take and then giving me a break, a blessing, a breath of air. Giving me a reset. Speaking to me explicit reminders of His guidance and provision when I began panicking. No, I'm not talking about the book. I'm talking about life. And the One who is good.
So, no conclusion here. It's really hard to see clearly when you are in the middle of it, but I will, you will, hold on to Him as He holds on to you.
