a whole year.

So, this thing. This blogging thing. This incredibly exposing thing. It's been happening for a year now.

A full, life-filled, messy year.

And I have thought of quitting so many times. Because its hard and time consuming and forces me to look ever inward and upward to see into the deepest places. The hard-to-reach ones that at times seem better off hidden and scarce and dark.

But I just read back over the first post. The one I posted almost a year to the day ago.

And there it was. Staring at me.That thing that the Lord had been asking me to do for years. That freeing thing that has been so very difficult, but so very full. Because you see, I am still fearful. I still fight for my life every day. I fight for abundant life with every breath. I won't pretend I don't. It is a fight.

But this thing. This opportunity to look inward. To examine it all. To survey the goodness of the Lord in my fight. His proddings to keep moving. To trust his goodness. His character. His will. His purpose. His strength.

It has been more than I could have expected.

Because I am not one for words. I love them desperately. I am a fool for good words strung together in some sort of creative and meaningful fashion. I'm an English teacher; I can't help it. But I am not all that great at speaking them. I fumble over them in conversation constantly. It's frustrating, really. But in this thing. This blogging thing. The Lord has used my fumbling words to preach to my fearful heart.

You see, this thing it feels so very vain. And over this year I have probed anyone I thought would be honest if what I have been doing is reckless. Or if it seems that it is for my own praise. Because it feels that way when I hit the post button each time. It feels like posting it means others will think I want to be seen. I want to be heard. And I hear a whisper when these things go out into the world, that they are without purpose.

But then I read one again a day or week or month later and the same words that spoke down deep, they are there. And they are still speaking. They are still reminding me. That fear isn't it. That there is so much more.

And perhaps someone else feels those same fears. Perhaps someone else needs some soothing. Or a reminder that the Lord has already won this war. Fear has not. It has no real hold. Only what we allow it to take. To steal from our days.

Perhaps I am not alone. And perhaps these words that the Lord has placed in my heart as I sweep fingers over keys serve a purpose in someone else's life too.

So, tonight I am celebrating a strange little anniversary. And I refuse to allow my old friend, fear, into the party. Because it has been a year. A full, life-filled, messy year. And there are words to prove the Lord's goodness throughout. And that is enough.