The Weekend and Writing

Well, I had a wonderful time in Birmingham this weekend. I got to spend some much needed time with Caroline and Beth. Beth's bridesmaids' luncheon was absolutely beautiful, and I haven't stopped carrying around the cute bag we got as our bridesmaids gift. My children's sermon this Sunday was about the three of us, and I got quite a few compliments on it. Maybe one day I will just start uploading my children's sermons on here...hmm, that's an idea. Anyway, the weekend was a great break from real life and all the work I am doing at the moment (well, not at this particular moment since I am writing this post, but I am at least in my office).

Today is my one year anniversary here at First-Trinity. It's hard to believe that a year ago today I was just putting books on my shelves and carrying in my boxes of pictures to put on the walls. It's hard to believe that a year ago today, I got lost down in the Sunday School hallway and had to ask the janitor to help me find my way back to my office. It's hard to believe that a year ago today, I was just beginning this journey. And it's hard to believe that a year ago today, I actually thought that I would be an old pro at this within the year.

During those first few months, I bought every book I could find that had something to do with being a better youth and children's ministry leader. I haven't finished reading a single one of them yet...I've started some of them, and then there are those that just sit there unopened and untouched. One of the books that I have actually opened, said that a successful ministry leader needs to take "daily stretches," breaks from doing your ministry, things that refresh you and take your mind away from all that needs to be done. Well, writing is one of my daily stretches...so I've decided to spend my "daily stretch" today writing about writing (go figure!).

I'm not someone who opens up very easily. I don't like to put my feelings out there. I tend to agree with others and not open my mouth with my own opinion. I have never been able to just tell someone when I am upset or what I am upset about. In college, I ran into lots of roommate troubles. My freshman roommate and I didn't see eye to eye on some things, but instead of confronting her about it and talking, I gave her the silent treatment until the end of fall semester when I wrote her a note. I don't remember what all I wrote in that letter, but I know I let my thoughts flow freely. It was probably really harsh, and definitely a cowardly act, but it was the only way I could freely communicate with her. Things were never the same after that. We continued to be roommates until the end of the school year, but there was always a gap. My roommate during the later 3 years of college was great, but I had the same problem with communicating. I felt justified in my actions by giving her the silent treatment, and I know quite a few letters were shared back and forth between us. We had a huge falling out our senior year, and it was horrible. As badly as I wanted to talk to her and tell her exactly why I was mad, I couldn't. I was too afraid to share my feelings. As mad as I was, I didn't want to anger her or anyone else, so I just kept silent. I've learned now that my silence was much more painful to her than any words I could have said. Recently, I have made amends with both of these wonderful people.

Writing has always been my fallback. During high school, it was a way for me to get out my feelings without having to share them with my parents. When I went off to college, it continued to be an outlet for my emotions, but it also became an "out" for me when faced with problems. When I'm writing, I feel so secure, so safe. That's why I love this blog. I write this as a journal, I fool myself into believing I am the only one who reads it, and then I post it half hoping that no one reads it and half hoping that someone will finally read what is so deep in my heart. When writing, I can be open because I know my pen and paper or my computer and keyboard won't harbor any ill will towards me for the words I write or type. I can watch the words appear on my computer screen or piece of paper and not be forced to stare into the eyes of a loved one as they hear my thoughts. It's the only way I truly know how to express myself, and I hate that. I just hope that maybe a year from now, I will be able to express my opinions to others without the need for a pen and a notepad. I just hope that maybe a year from now, I will be able to open up without the fear of repercussion. I just hope that maybe a year from now, my love for writing will be fruitful and no longer a way for me to avoid real life. I just hope.