Tenacious

Merry Christmas, Lovelies! Please pay no mind to the link I posted (or the meme, if it ever appears); it's further evidence of my technological shortcomings:) That is, I did not mean to share it on this blog! You all know I'm a loyal Christian, but I don't intend to make this blog a platform for evangelism! There are plenty of other opportunities for that in this broken world, particularly these days. And speaking of "these days"--I'm writing to you on an off day because, #1, in my brilliantly scattered brain, writing a meaningful blog that others might enjoy keeps being shuffled to the back of the line of things on my plate during this holiday season, and #2, I don't want to miss my weekly opportunity to speak out, and I believe I just might, if I wait any longer this week. Besides, I've just come from church, and the time I spend in that sanctuary of peace (for me) invariably inspires--so afterwards is an ideal time to spread my own message! This week I have been reflecting often on the need to give other people a piece of my mind/share my story--whether in anger or matter-of-factly. The trouble is, there is continuously a question of "is this the right time and place to tell somebody about what I've gone through?" Or I'll second-guess my methods, since I've often been on the receiving end of some one ELSE'S angry tirade about their own disabilities and struggles. "Should I have been so harsh with that person or that one? Should I NOT have been so nice to that person? Would it have been more impressive, for them, if I'd gnashed my teeth or thrown in some fowl language, or made an obscene gesture? Even though THOSE methods are becoming less second nature than they were in my young and foolish days, I really don't want to appear "soft" in the area where I live, so maybe I should have done or said something that would have pounded the point home with an iron fist? Well today I got my answer in the sermon. And it actually goes along with a meme I've been reflecting on all week, and which I attempted to share in this entry. It reads: "I believe churches are meant for praising God. But so are 2AM car rides, showers, coffee shops, the gym, conversations with friends, strangers, etc. Don't let a building confine your faith because we will never change the world by just going to church; we need to be the church." Now I know there are quite a few people who will read that in the context of my blog and think, "she IS evangelizing; why am I still reading this blog?" But don't stop reading! KEEP READING! I think of it only as a reminder of how I need to think about the way I answer my self-doubting questions. We need to say what we say, even when it's hard. Even when there is resistance. Even when our blog audience has shrunk by nearly half, and we feel like abandoning the whole endeavor once again to the Sands of Time...we need to persevere. And so I do, come what may. THAT reminds me of a quote that replaced the old cover photo on my Facebook profile! Unfortunately, much of the quote was cropped off in the process of placing it on my page, but the bottom line reads "I just don't quit," which seemed none the less appropriate to my personality, so I kept the quote. The rest of it reads: "Of course I struggle...I just don't quit." So here I am, not quitting. Life might be scary, the challenges I face might be daunting, and the reward for overcoming said challenges might not seem proportionately large enough to make the effort worthwhile. But these are the things the Disabled are used to. These are the things we've come to expect as part of the life we lead; and I find that makes it easier. Approaching every situation EXPECTING it to daunt us, drain us, and nearly destroy us only makes us look for more creative ways to surmount the obstacle. I'm fond of saying that with my walker, I "make a path" where there might be just a narrow opening in a sea of chatting, oblivious people, unaware or uncaring that I too have someplace to be. Perhaps this is a sign. The ease with which this entry poured out of me, and the dwindling readership of my blog might be a sign that I need to add every Sunday to every Thursday:) Although they are close together, at the peak of Broken Lives' popularity, I was writing--or at least sharing a post from Facebook--every single day. So I doubt that the closeness will matter; indeed, I hope it helps! I miss all of the readers who've lost interest. Even if I don't know who you are, you are missed! I hope this entry helps sustain you through the Grand Finale of the holiday season, as it were, Christmas Day itself. And I hope you remember the importance of sharing your story. Even if it's not easy, even if it's scary to make yourself vulnerable in that way, I've learned those are a pretty good indication that your story needs to be told, if not for your own sake--for THEIRS. Hence this blog, where I have little by little attempted to share my story with you, in hopes that it will one day generate enough buzz that I am confident a book would sell--and then will pour out a retelling of my story, chirping the joys of maintaining a blog that made a path.