It happened again today. I was talking to a friend this morning and she mentioned to me that an acquaintance of ours had stumbled upon my blog and had called my friend to see how I was doing. It felt weird. Not weird because someone I know is reading my blog, but weird because I never know just who is out there reading my blog. After all, there is a lot of personal stuff on my blog. It's happened other times as well...people at my church will tell me they read my blog or someone will ask about something that I wrote about. It always makes me stop for a minute and catch my breath. Certainly I don't know everyone who reads my blog and that's okay. But sometimes, I admit, I wish I knew my audience better, I wish I knew who is quietly, anonymously, reading my story. I wish those people who read would just leave a comment, de-lurk or something. It's the not knowing that I guess gets to me a little bit.
I've often thought about taking my blog private, but that doesn't feel right either. I have made some amazing friends through the blog world and have been touched by so many other blogs that I read, that I feel selfish in not sharing my journey.
Which brings me to this day. I have so many thoughts whirling around in my head. So many words dancing in my brain begging for a place of permanence on paper. And yet...I hesitate. Maybe it's because I don't know who is out there reading my words. Perhaps it is because I don't want my blog to be all gloom and doom as my life is certainly filled with happiness and the perfect brightness of hope. Sometimes, the simple truth is that it's too painful to write it all out.
I have read the Twilight series by Stephanie Meyer and while I don't think I ever truly understood the mania surrounding those books, there was one moment, in my opinion, of pure literary genious. In the second book, when Bella and Edward broke up, Meyer strategically left several blank pages in the book. I remember smiling as I turned the pages. The feeling of shock, of having no words, felt so familiar to me.
Lately, I have had several weeks of blank pages. Many days of worry and wonder that did not, could not, transcribe themselves accurately into words. But I have also had many many moments of joy this summer and for that I am most grateful.
So I will continue to write my story. It isn't always a pretty picture and sometimes I hesitate to let it all hang out. Writing is therapeutic to me. It helps me remember all that I have in my life that is brilliant and pure and good. So if you're out there, let me know. Drop me a line. I know I have many dark days ahead and I imagine I will weather them a bit easier knowing I have the love and support of all of you, friends and strangers alike.