I haven’t had much to say lately. I used to write blog posts two to three times a week, but lately I only feel compelled to write about twice a month. I’m not really sure why. I will sit down at my favorite writing spots (a peaceful front porch or a trendy coffee shop) and I will grab my iPad, ready to write.

But no words come.  I’m waiting in silence.

As I have wondered about this over the summer and into the fall, I have brainstormed some reasons. It could just be busyness. I spent about a year writing and teaching a Bible study, finishing up in late September.  I’ve been traveling and speaking. And to make things really fun, I just started seminary. So the usual time when I would write is now caught up in doing homework. My disposable time is nil.

But even when I have free time there isn’t much to say. Sometimes I think it is because I’m afraid. I have bared my soul and my weaknesses and imperfections so many times and it is never easy.  I’ve done it for three years now in this blow and in speaking engagements.  I always fear rejections.  So perhaps I’m weary of telling you, again, about my frail humanity.

It could be discouragement. I have been sharing my artful words for a long time and my blog growth has been painfully slow.  I have 139 followers. After three years of writing and editing and sharing. And it will probably be 138 tomorrow because I’ve learned that people come and go.  I thought my “reach” would be so much larger by now.

Or it could be the medication I’m taking. For over a year now I have been taking Zoloft to help me control anxiety and panic attacks.  A positive side-effect of taking depression medication is that I am much more “chill.” I’ve never been described as laid back, but this medicated-Lisa is much more relaxed and a bit zoned out.  There are a lot of things that just don’t matter to me anymore.

I believe the true reason I haven’t written as much is that my heart has been healed. In 2014 and 2016, I went through tumultuous conflicts with people who were close to me. I was broken and I grieved and I was a mess.

When I cried, I got out my iPad to write.

The rejection and heartbreak I felt resonated with many women. A broken heart is something everyone understands.

Today, thank God, I can say, “It is well with my soul.” My life is far from perfect, but God has healed the broken places in my life. He has miraculously restored a relationship with a close family member. It took four years, but God has healed this relationship and my heart with it.  He is also healing my anxiety.  I’m starting to wean off of Zoloft now.

I am no longer broken.  I AM WHOLE.   Instead of pain and tears to inspire my words, there is a calm, peace-filled silence that stills my fingers.

Surprisingly, I don’t have much to say. So I wait in silence.

I can look back and thank God for the bruising and the brokenness. My life experiences have helped me to understand the broken woman.

The scared woman.
The grieving woman.
The hopeless woman.
The rejected woman.
The suicidal woman.
The overwhelmed woman

I will always understand her, because I have been her.

Will I continue to blog?  Probably.   But I do feel a transition in my ministry, and I can’t see what is ahead.

Whether it is in writing or speaking or teaching or preaching, I believe God will continue to use my words to encourage the struggling woman.  I love her.  I am her.  And I want to continue to give her the gift of “Me, too. You are not alone.”

Thanks for being with me on this journey…

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