Friday, November 8, 2013

a prelude to moving forward


Have I mentioned that I'm really socially inept when it comes to compliments? I really don't know how to take them. I bring this up because I've had three people from LW give me some over the past week or so. One in an email, one on Sunday, & yesterday morning I got a text from a friend. I'm keeping the email & the text. I think I might need them sometimes. Sometimes I can really be mean to me. So, where possible, I’m keeping some of these positive words. [for a "rainy day"?]


As I’ve been sharing things on here, I suddenly realize I can use this to try or test something out. Much of my life, after moving to York, I would share parts of me… yet not all of me. [or maybe I should say, my story] I’d let people believe that I had a simple, strait forward childhood. [which I, myself, believed for a few years] After hearing stories from friends at a youth ministry I was in, I began to remember things I had pushed down in my life. The ugly stuff I have come to call “the dark pages” of my life. When I began to remember, it took over. I even forgot all the good stuff of childhood. Then, as things moved along, I began to have these… “dual stories”. You’ve heard of “good cop, bad cop”… this was “good childhood bad childhood”. Problem is… they are both my story. [or part of it, anyway] To make matters worse, they are intermingled. Neither one was to the exclusion of the other. As I write on here. As I wrestle with me. Attempt to become comfortable within my own self, I’m thinking that I may try to post good then bad. Sharing struggles & problems, then sharing warm memories. My blog won’t seem like it’s going dark or pessimistic, yet I can still share things that don’t get talked about much. I can also attempt to make it clear that my childhood was not all heaven or hell. Rather slices of each. Which, I suspect, is true of us all. As I think I've mentioned before [on here? well, somewhere] 


"We are all broken. The depth of the cracks is the same, though the pattern may look different."

I wrote that thinking of a vessel. like a pitcher for water. The water leaks out through the cracks... no matter where or how many cracks there are.  We so often compare our cracks to others. These are "bigger" or "deeper" than those. No, they're not, all of our cracks are the same depth. The pattern is different. It's different for each of us.

working on a post about my Grandfather...
May His grace drip from your fingers,
B

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