and God said, "Let there be light"
Recently a treasured friend discovered my blogsite. He stumbled upon it, after visiting my sister’s post. I referred him to her articles because I believe she is a gifted writer, and I wanted to share her musings with others. It never dawned on me that my site would be fair game. When he mentioned visiting some of my old articles, I instantly grew uncomfortable. Hiding has served me well, and now people knew.
My first thought was, “Oh crap! Did I write anything questionable?” The fellow reading my ramblings also happens to be my Bible study leader, and I was concerned my previous articles were a little too honest where matters of faith occur. Thankfully, he was complimentary, and he seemed to appreciate my openness. Even with his kind words of encouragement, my insecurities crept in. Knowing that others were reading my innermost thoughts caused me uneasiness.
Writing is an intensely personal experience. I teach 4th graders, and in Texas nine year olds take a standardized test measuring their ability to express themselves through written language. It’s a high stakes test, and the pressure these kiddos face is enormous. Because of TAKS, so many of my children hate to write. Getting them to put two sentences down on paper is like pulling teeth. My feet are held to the fire when it comes to passing or failing the test and it is very easy to let writing become a measurable science, rather than an art.
After having my own writing exposed, I realized how difficult it must be for my students to share their lives on paper. A fresh taste of empathy did wonders for my attitude towards teaching such a subjective concept. If I struggle to believe in my abilities as a writer, then they must also fear the rejection or approval of those around them.
I am not extraordinary. If you look up average in the dictionary, you will find my name. Over the years, I have come to accept the fact that being middle of the road is not such a bad thing. I am a high achiever, but as far as talent is concerned, I was not blessed with any astonishing gifts. I like being me on most days, but every now and again my self-esteem takes a hit, and I question whether I have anything of value to offer the world. Mercifully, God reminds me I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Embracing this truth will be the challenge of my life.
My writing is not fancy. Although I teach the basics, I do not always use correct grammar, and I don’t have many witty, impressive things to say. Most of what share doesn’t seem to be that important, but I write. I write because it helps me cope with the mess going on in my head. I write because when I release my thoughts onto to the paper they no longer control me. I write because I enjoy the feedback others provide, even if it’s critical. I write because it allows me to see the world through different lenses.
Blogging poses a unique opportunity to remain anonymous, if you so choose. I did not want others to know I was writing in fear of their negative response or disapproval. I crave affirmation, and only recently have I been willing to embrace differences as a natural part of being human. Maybe this means I’m growing up. I’m glad my secret is out. I’m glad others know I blog. I hope that in some small way, what I write helps others evaluate their own lives. No more hiding. The light has pierced the shadows.