I found myself doing it again–contriving a blog post on a musing of life when I felt a slight cringe underneath the surface.

I can’t do this.  I cannot write another post omitting the mess from my mess.

I need to write where I am right now.

Truth be told, I am a mess on multiple fronts.

I am afraid. Yes, afraid. Afraid that maybe my husband might not make it through this cancer, and I am overwhelmed at the thought. So, I dismiss it as best as I can by avoidance, dismissal, an extra glass of wine, a smile, sleep, work, running, etc.

I feel like a hypocrite ministering to adults and children all the while seeing my very own stumble onto the broad path.

I am frustrated by rejection with my church. Why won’t they respond with a formal rejection letter? Isn’t this the proper response to someone’s request for employment?

I am angry at someone (you know who you are).  When I shared of Hubby’s cancer, you didn’t blink an eye, or say a word for that matter. No, not one. I feel like a lost sheep scattering about in furor without a shepherd.

I am discouraged that over half of my life was wasted in the vain attempt to please others, so to be liked, and while I succeeded, I’ve felt the fraud of self.

I am not proud of my issues. I wrestle with my thoughts. I hope to learn and live better because of them.

I wonder though, if I miss the purpose of writing.

To write where I am.

In the midst of this mess called life.

I came across and interesting side-note today while reading about the Pharisees and the adulterous woman debacle–

(The earliest manuscripts do not include 7:53-8:11)

Why was this scandalous passage omitted from the original text?

Was it too raw for the earliest readers to digest?

I don’t know.

But, it is here, in the midst of the mess, that I wish to sit.

The places I do not desire to document are perhaps the exact places I need to delve. (If not, I will delete this post from all existence :))

Love,

A Messy Child of God