Last night I got worried because I hadn’t written anything in an entire week.
I’ve spent the past month writing every day and working on this book and telling the stories of other people. This week I read good words and underlined the work of other writers and lost myself in Archaeology and travel magazines and West Wing. Because I am poured out. Drained. Fin. Completely and utterly exhausted. And I didn’t write a single word.
I told Justin I thought my writer might be broken and it was absolutely necessary that I write something right then. I’m sure he assumed I was being overdramatic, which practically never happens. But he was patient and instead of sending the rolling eyes emoji, he told me to write him a November prayer.
Did you know I write prayers?
I do. I have…for a long time. So — I did. I wrote a prayer. It was terrible. It was dry and blah and meaningless. I wrote another prayer. It was probably more terrible than the first one. Finally, in a fit of despair — showing my complete lack of dramatics — I poured out my feelings without filter. I was surprised at what came out. It was a prayer for him but also it was for me and I’m pretty sure it’s for you too.
I’ve been stressing about this site being perfect and having all the things before I can publish anything here. Well, I’m done. This is me. I’m flawed and imperfect, but pretty dang delightful. Here’s this prayer I wrote modified to fit us all. Use it for yourself. Let it get into your heart and curl up in your soul. Make it your November whisper.
“Hey. It’s me.”
Remind us to celebrate how far we’ve come.
We wouldn’t freaking be here if it weren’t for You. That’s just the truth.
We’ve been in some screwed up places in the past two years. I know there have been moments when I didn’t know if I was going to live through them and I’m pretty sure each person reading this can say the same thing so, God, I think it’s okay if we just take this month to say, “thank you. Thank you. THANK YOU.”
Thanks for not leaving. Thanks for always showing up. Thanks for picking our raggedy broken asses out of the dirt and saying, “beautiful child, you are so much more than this.” Thanks for seeing our light when all we could see was the darkness. Thank You for never, never, never giving up.
It’s only by Your grace that we’re still breathing.
And I’m glad about that. So, this month…I say we raise our hands, we breathe in for a few, we remember and be reminded of how far You have brought us, we dance, and we give thanks.
You did this. Thank you.
Precious. Matchless. NameAboveAllOfTheEvery. Jesus. So be it. Make it so.