The old-fashioned Christmas lights are illuminating the darkness as I pull into home. I love those big fat red, blue, green, and orange spheres hanging beneath the cedar porch next to the pool. I leave them up all year and turn them on in the summer when we have folks over for cookouts. At that time I refer to them as our honky-tonk lights.
It is warmer here than in the mountains of Laity Lodge, but not by too much. The air is crisp enough to see breath rising from the surface of the pond.
Four days has passed as quickly as breath itself, and I am so happy to hold Doc in my arms and breathe him in, yet, I miss the people and the landscape of Laity Lodge.
Theses are my people. Here is where I fit in.
Never have I been to a retreat where people opened their hearts so quickly. Never have I seen women know instinctively that they are safe, and pour out the sorrows of their lives, sitting on couches so soft. Surrounding us are windows big as life pulling in the fall’s splendor. Each of us having tasted a similar sorrow, nod our heads, and a moan is heard as the stories pour out onto Holy Ground.
We all talk about trying to write about the pain, just trying to get it out, so we can help others and to let them know they are not alone.
But we, as writers talk about how we frequently feel alone. Writing requires a lot of alone time to work on the art, and the introverted part of our personalities needs it to recharge, reflect, recall.
Writers embrace the introvert, and live as an extrovert on the pages that we write.
It is in the writing that we can embrace others in our day-to-day lives. It is in the words that we connect with others mentally and spiritually.
This is why I write. I want to speak answers to my Whys out loud. I want to ask Why, Who and How, then share it with others asking the same questions.
I want my life to live in the middle of all of the questions – pressing one leather sole after the other curious, seeking and begging for greater sight to write.
“Jesus, why do we hurt?”
“Who needs a hug today?”
“How Can I leave this world better than I found it?”
“What is their story – and do I have any answers that can help?”
And like those beautiful lights on my porch, I want to bring joy and clarity to those who might still be walking in darkness, because of pain, because of vision, because of life.
It is when we share our stories – the broken, the ugly, the completely mangled, and the lessons learned that our pain becomes someone’s answers.
What story can you tell that will be someone’s answer?
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Oh yes Diane…this: “It is when we share our stories – the broken, the ugly, the completely mangled, and the lessons learned that our pain becomes someone’s answers…” One thousand times yes! Oh how I wish I could have been there at Laity Lodge. I’m guessing you all are my people. Sending much love..xo
You are my people, Jacque!
Thanks, Diane. You’re my peeps too! Thank you for being transparent and for being there, truly present, this weekend. I’m still working on my why. I know I have stories that need to be told. I pray for boldness and a renewed fire in me to make my story count.
Hugs, Ali
Alison, I pray that your stories will be told, because I want to hear them, and some one else needs to hear them!
You’re right. It’s not just about me. God keeps telling me this. I need to take Him at His word, Diane.
Love this so much, Diane. All of it. Thank you.
Thank you Jennifer, You would have loved Laity Lodge
This is so beautiful. Yes we write for many reasons and YES it takes time and it takes effort and quiet and sometimes we can’t find the opportunity to write and sometimes we have to no matter what is going on. Yes… it is community.
You speak truth in these words sweet friend. I love you. I was thinking of you and praying for you while at Laity Lodge.
Diane! Girl, I did not hug your neck enough this weekend. You are one of mine’s. 🙂
This is lovely, Diane. So glad you could go and enjoy this glorious place, even if the weather was uncooperative.