finding words.
I want to speak words of faith and hope. Often I falter and speak pain.
It is the ever continuing cycle of submission and yielding to the Spirit of God. The emptying of myself, and the opening and freeing to be filled with Him.
I write words and words.
I hesitate, I speak, I cringe.
I long for the perfection of choosing the correct thing at the perfect time.
I fail.
I hear of someone’s misfortune and want to share, somehow, of God’s goodness and faithfulness to all who believe. But I forget that the only way to tell that is to live it.
I ask for prayer for my own crushing weight and sit in questioning if I should have spoken. My loss is so small, so pitiful, so unimportant. It swirls and pushes, this cry of inferiority.
And I listen hard and struggle deep to know His voice amidst those grasping for my attention.
My words, all of them, spoken in fractured pieces. An aching fear that what I speak will not be understood. And a burning desire to push the stage lights onto the only One that matters at all.
Usually the emptiest and rawest words bring hope and light to others.
It is the brokenness that heals.
And it is my inferiority, my failure, my loss that paves the way for His glory, His victory, His hope.
Natasha, I don’t want to “stalk” you on your blog, so thought I’d make my presence known. 🙂 I recently completed your book, and what a blessing it was to know you, and the Lord, better through it. (Any way I can get that on print for my non-e reader friends?)
I feel a sadness that when our paths crossed several weeks ago at D & N Olmstead’s house, I was too consumed by childcare responsibilities and nervousness to ask frank questions that might have allowed us to know and be known. I look forward to the next time the Lord allows our paths to cross. In the meantime, it is a privilege to peer through this blog window into your life.
Lisa! Hi!! So thankful you stopped by. 🙂
The book is actually not available in print quite yet, but will be very soon. I’ll drop you an email when it is!
It was wonderful to meet you and the others, and I completely understand. I enjoyed the conversation we did have and look forward to seeing you all again at some point.
Thanks for commenting! It’s so fun to hear from you.
Working with teens has shown me that no loss is small. God wants to share every pain. But I often face the same struggle you have so poignantly described here. Beautiful post! Thanks for stopping by Doorkeeper. Merry Christmas!
Beautiful post! As I’m sure you know in your heart, draw near to God and He will draw near to you. I pray you feel his loving embrace as you pray through your purpose and His plan.
In His Grip,
Monica
http://happyandblessedhome.com
Beautiful, Natasha. You’re honest in your brokenness, something that many bloggers lack. Blessings to you as you shine for Him.
You know….when I read what you write I hear it all. I don’t just hear from the pain and brokenness, I also hear from the source of hopefulness. Especially when you’ve shared your Haiti years and the years before marriage. Your voice in writing is perfectly suited to honesty of any sort and I, for one will gladly welcome you back in the New Year.<3
Oh’ Merry Christmas sweet woman, in case we don’t talk again before! Beautiful words filled with honesty and hope. ~ Love out, Amy
Thank you for allowing Him to speak to others through your pain <3. Every tear is precious to Him, sister. Merry Christmas!
Amen and amen. Praying alongside you, sister…
“And it is my inferiority, my failure, my loss that paves the way for His glory, His victory, His hope.” So true, my Friend. Your words bless, Natasha, in ways you have no idea. I’ll be missing your encouraging posts over the next few weeks but knowing He is working and refreshing in your life. Praying for a time of revelation, renewal, and peace for you. Have a joy-filled, blessed Christmas.
Thank you, dear friend. <3
Thank you. This was beautiful and so after my own heart.