As a girl, I kept a diary with a silver clamp and a tiny key. I stashed the key in a top secret hiding place and tucked my diary under my blankets. I've always needed a channel to use my voice, to be heard, to release my heart's words. Back then, it was a secret and quiet audience...just myself, using a diary...with a lock and key. Now, in true spirit of our current generation, my platform is my blog. There is no lock and there is no key. My audience is everyone and the secrets are none. I am an open book.
My real life is exposed by choice.
This is me, my life unveiled.
Sometimes along this blessed path of life, we have hellish barriers that bind us, preventing us from moving forward. These barriers threaten to destroy all the beautiful things we usually experience. I have a thorn in my side that I have shared about in a previous post here. I am a happy girl, that is true. But I am a happy girl with a burden I keep compartmentalized in it's own box. I rarely open this box unless forced.
This quiet health condition I carry gives me many physical issues. I have lived with my burden for a long time but the threats it is currently shoving in my face are requiring me to take new action. My issues could be corrected if I do what it takes. You all know I usually love to share beautiful things here on Moore Minutes. Well, this isn't pretty. It's ugly. One of the side effects of my health issue is causing me to lose a lot of hair. I have always had a LOT of hair too. I never in a million trillion years thought I would be sharing this here for everyone to read, but life is funny and I feel strongly that I am meant to write this post. Rapid hair loss is a humbling experience for a woman. I twirl my fingers through strands of my hair and cry dry tears.
It's just hair.
I silently repeat those words to myself over and over and over again. But I remain attached to my vanity and the comfort it brings so the hair loss still sinks my spirit.
But then Jesus whispers to me and says...
This is real life.
This is authentic humanness...
A lot of days I doubt. Hope and healing aren't tangible. But then part of me awakens and I see some light fighting to peek through the door.
It is Well, With my Soul
old hymn penned by Horatio Spafford in the 1800s
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll; whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well with my soul.
It is well with my soul, it is well, it is well with my soul. ...though trials should come, let this blest assurance control, that Christ has regarded my helpless estate... And, Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, the clouds be rolled back as a scroll; the trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, even so, it is well with my soul.