I took a short break from blogging after I posted the blog : letting go of our home.
The truth is, I posted that post impulsively. I remember the wait in the waiting room at the department store felt like years so I began to write. I wrote to take my mind off the pain. I wrote to welcome stillness in my heart and peace into my mind. I wrote to release the feelings inside of me that if contained would have surely defeated me.
I wrote with the intention to express and not share. But at the same time I knew that sharing would help. It had helped me before to share so it would help me again.
But that was not the immediate impact that it had on me. Sharing that post didn’t just take me back to that emotion of disappointment and hurt but also took my family there. Sometimes you forget that such a big ordeal doesn’t just affect you but those around you. Those who were there to help you pick up the pieces. And so at the time when all I really wanted was to be a recluse for a minute, the phone calls and messages of concern came in.
“I immediately wished I didn’t put it up”
The reaction of my loved ones made me feel the need to pretend that that moment, that ordeal, that reminder, didn’t affect me. Like most, I really dislike my loved ones being down. Especially when it’s because they are concerned about me. So if it meant I would put on a brave face even though I was internally crying, I would.
I walked up and down Oxford street a minimum of 3 times that day. I sat down in a store with blank thoughts until eventually the security announced that the store was closing. I went home to so many positive comments about the post but the next day I decided I needed a break. It all came at the perfect time as I was planning a trip away and I had so many work commitments that taking a break from writing was very much welcomed.
After days away from the pen (or in my case the keyboard) I decided to just write again. But I couldn’t. The blank thoughts scared me. I tried to write my feelings but I felt as if I had none. The fear of not knowing what this meant played on my heart for a while. I quickly learnt instead of turning to my pen I needed to get on my knees and pray. You see it’s so easy for triggers to take you back to the past when really God wants to use them to show you just how far you have come.
Going into that department store was a transition I needed to remind me that the material things that we hold so much sentiment to, will all pass away. Yes it’s good to build a life with another but what good is it if the one you’re building with is not the person for you. So I prayed and I reflected on the months that had past. From the girl hiding away in a hotel room to the woman sharing her story to many.
I write this piece a year after April 9th would have happened. The day I would have said I do at the church in front of all of my loved ones. And I am thankful because through the ups and downs and many transitions I am better.
I could have gone back to that dark place or spent the day thinking sad thought but instead I looked back at every transition that I had made, how God kept me and I stood on the alter at church and praised like never before.
I am so thankful for posting that post now because on reading it back I see growth. On hearing the feedback, I am reminded of my calling.