{The Conundrums of Writing and Blogging: A Series}
I am so very pleased to introduce to you my new friend, and who I can tell will be a forever-friend, Lisha Epperson. We’ve already gotten the hard stuff out of the way—this is a woman whom I already admire for her courage, her heart, and how she shows that she is so very human. She is audacious in her words here, and they challenge and inspire me.
Mine and Lisha’s heart beat for the same thing: real change. We ache for it. Please listen to her story with a wide-open heart, and show her some love in the comments. I have gotten to know Lisha and I know where she is coming from here—from love, the kind that Jesus poured out and you couldn’t help but be changed. That is what is present here today. I pray we are all challenged and changed by her words.
photo credit--Flickr CC gollygforce
I call myself an accidental writer.
I am so very pleased to introduce to you my new friend, and who I can tell will be a forever-friend, Lisha Epperson. We’ve already gotten the hard stuff out of the way—this is a woman whom I already admire for her courage, her heart, and how she shows that she is so very human. She is audacious in her words here, and they challenge and inspire me.
Mine and Lisha’s heart beat for the same thing: real change. We ache for it. Please listen to her story with a wide-open heart, and show her some love in the comments. I have gotten to know Lisha and I know where she is coming from here—from love, the kind that Jesus poured out and you couldn’t help but be changed. That is what is present here today. I pray we are all challenged and changed by her words.
photo credit--Flickr CC gollygforce
I call myself an accidental writer.
Suffocating
in my minivan one summer, the summer my youngest turned 1, midlife motherhood
wrecked and wrung me….left me stranded in the loneliest season of my life. God
whispered the idea. “Write” he said, an unexpected answer to my desperate
question. As I watched my mommy friends dash off for coffee again, without me,
I wondered.. “How can I make this time useful? What can I do?”
I’d drop
off the tweens and find my self stuck – in sandmans’ land with the
littlest Lovelies. Fiddling
around on Facebook led to twinklings on Twitter and the next thing you know…I
had a blog.
A year in,
and I’m still in love, still excited by the shaping of words like so many
dancers in the beautiful synchronicity of choreography. But for a while fear
was part of the journey…and expectation and comparison, and doubt. The initial
rush and sweaty palms developed into a rapidly beating heart. I got scared.
That first
post was thrilling in that jumping tandem way. I took the leap with God and
felt confident of his presence. Sending my words out in cyberspace was a blast.
But I lacked focus . I walked the unfamiliar halls of the blogging world
glancing back at every sound. To break through the web of cries and catcalls
for attention I had to hear His heartbeat. Respond only…to echoes of His voice.
So I
developed a mantra…
1,2,3
Jesus. I count and let his name escape my lips. My rhythmical ritual, my soft
silent prayer before posting. Every word is important and every offering good
in a God way. I’m at a point in this relationship where what I thought was a
fling feels like forever. It’s bigger and more important and I pray for the
confidence commitment brings.
I’m still
trying to find my voice. And beyond encouragement, struggle to write anything
tangibly resourceful. I don’t know if I have a niche and wonder how one
monetizes a ministry of words. Is it possible I’ve stumbled into my calling? In
literally oceans of talent have I found my wave?
And then
there’s this…I wonder if it’s too late and if there’s room. Christians
haven’t escaped the polarized packaged perfection of the typical Western
experience. By and large, it’s the same old, same old. With few exceptions it’s
segregated…by age and race. The subtle maybe even subliminal message for women
my age and ethnicity is “prepare for landing” or “this” is not for you. The
words may never be spoken…but they’re implied. When I walk into a room of 500
and see only a handful of people of color…I feel it. It’s what I think when I
see a conference line up features only one face of color or platforms only
thirty somethings.
As for
race, Dr. King highlighted the sad fact of our separation as Christians.
And too much of its broken truth is part of our online world
today. Our continued division perpetuates the worlds narrative about
people of color and the value of older women. We have to intentionally do
better. Everything about our walk with Christ has to be intentional…especially
if our goal is unification of the body.
And who’s doing the planning anyway? And is there really only
room for one? One woman of color? One fabulously silver saint? It’s hard to say
this because I know there’s grace for growth on all sides but it’s something we
have to address. These words, from Holly Gerth and Brene Brown, inspired me to to push the envelope a
little bit further today. Maybe cause a conversation. Incite a beautiful
revolution. Take a stab at true diversity.
Fear will
always tell you to keep quiet.
But love will always ask you to speak up.
And we need your story. – Holly Gerth
But love will always ask you to speak up.
And we need your story. – Holly Gerth
Is there
anything braver than asking for what we need and owning our story? I don’t
think so. - Brene Brown
And so I
pose the question. I prayerfully voice my concerns as a new blogger. I’m taking
in the landscape and I’m looking for level ground. Ground we’ve worn down with
love…together. And I want to see me…standing…with you. Because this experience
has birthed new sisters and I’m grateful for open doors and opportunities. I
love ya’ll.
Still….Every
woman of color might not express it but I know she’s thinking it. And every
woman over 45 wonders if she’ll be the oldest woman in the conference hall. Our
eyes meet between sessions and we laugh nervously about which of us is the
oldest. Or we share a knowing glance or nod of solidarity. Your story, my story
is part of the universal canvas. We can’t do this walk…in love….in the name of
Christ…without each other.
I want to
attend Christian conferences for women. We may be in different seasons but we
all benefit when we stretch and shift our minds to accommodate the perspective
of another. Lets not perpetuate the problem by pushing ourselves into corners
with our “own” clubs.
Here’s the
deal.. honestly, it hurts to attend events where the only other faces of color
are onscreen….when slides from a missions trip are run. I want to attend a
Christian conference. If I’m “the only” , and others are "the only" where they are, then we need to all ask ourselves this question: is this true community? And without true community, I can’t
receive the breadth of Christ’s provision…which is offered for all.
I’m a
Titus 2 woman circling the sun in brown skin. I’m living the concrete beauty of
a human experience. My life is full. Things you have to live to know? I know.
But for me age is only a number and I understand the universality of many
experiences. Is there a limit or line to cross to know the split wide Red Sea
drama of motherhood, or the soul crush of NO in answer to your greatest wish.
Or to know waiting.
No. Does
He have a word for everyone but people of color? Middle-aged mamas/women?Did He
not pour out his love, creativity, compassion, grace, peace, wisdom on all?
God is on
the move. We’re living in an amazing era with an unprecedented capacity to
reach people for Christ. We can’t limit him by caging his plans with barriers
based on our minuscule vision of what He Can Do. A myopic gathering will not
serve the nations and I can’t sit back and let this wave of goodness wash over
without engaging in the beauty of its baptism. I should be in the water. I can
show you what it looks like to believe because faith taught me to swim.
So we
write anyway, don’t we? Because He says so and pray this experience of
platforms and tweets is indeed a sacred offering. A place to wash the feet of
others as he strips us bare. Every blogger I’ve connected with shares a story
of the breakdown before birth. The breakthrough happens after an avalanche of
truth. We won’t make it without authenticity. Because this is holy hard work
and we don’t want to just be the next one. We have to be called of The One.
I told a
friend whats happening to me online is a mirroring of what God is doing in my
life spiritually. Its a holy integration of life and faith, head and heart.
This journey takes place in real time. It’s holy and holistic.
Above all
else we have to be found in his presence…before the throne and digging in hard.
Planting feet, soul, heart…deep. Listening. Wholly immersed and grounded in His
magnificent all inclusive plan. This is the forever I’ve been searching for.
It’s eternal. An offering of words for such a time as this… I’ll keep writing.
Will you?
p.s. Deidra Riggs did
a fabulous job of highlighting conferences that are making an effort to do the
hard work of diversity. You can read that here.
{**Have you seen Kelli Woodford's series: Brave Words?
It'sback again! And I wrote there yesterday, in case you missed it! This whole series is delicious. Please stop over there today and give her some love. Click here.}
**{Requirements for link-up: Please no maligning/no mention in a negative manner of other blogs/authors/writers/brothers & sisters in Christ. Hurt does happen in community, and if we write about that, one option is to change the name/situation/dates, so that the people involved remain anonymous and are protected. "Whoever would foster love covers over an offense, but whoever repeats the matter separates close friends." Proverbs 17:9}
--Other posts in this series below:
In Which I Invite Us All to the Table --Nacole Simmons
A Hand In Your Own -- a guest post from Kelli Woodford
A Divided Loyalty and the Stinging Truth --a guest post from Michelle DeRusha
Rooted In A Tangible Grace -- Kelli Woodford
On Prostitution: Cheap Grace and One Word: Enough --Nacole Simmons
In The End, Three Things Remain --a guest post from Holly Grantham
What I Want You to Know About Mental Illness, Social Media, and Community --Nacole Simmons
On Vulnerability and Boundaries --a guest post from Diana Trautwein
