Yesterday I was reminded that very often my solitude is of my own making. When I reach outside myself, I am richly rewarded. Thank you everyone for your comments, emails, phone calls, text messages, thoughts and prayers. I feel loved and blessed to have amazing people in my life. I was also able to have a lengthy dinner with two wonderful friends who bouyed me up with their friendship, shared laughter, genuine empathy and their listening ears. Nothing has really changed since yesterday. I have the same problems. We don't have any more answers with my dad. But his voice is stronger and he is out of ICU. Having shared my burden, I now feel lighter and more capable of perservering. I have to write this lesson down for myself because honestly the simple act of writing yesterday's post made me feel better and I almost did not post it because it felt so raw and exposed and I thought the purging of emotions into words was enough. But I am so glad I did because sharing my thoughts and fears with others - even those who are so far away - brought them into the light where they just aren't quite as scary.
For as long as I can remember I have turned to writing as a way of coping with difficult emotions. My journals are full of tragic heart ache, loneliness, bitterness and sadness. It was so rare for me to record the moments of sheer happiness and bliss in my purely journal writing days. I know the happy days were far more frequent than the sad (except in 8th grade when nearly every day was black, what a terrible age!), but I know that if I looked back through my journals I would have to search long and hard to find the things I loved, the things that made me laugh, the friends I had. With blogging I am grateful that I have a place where I am motivated to share the positives and record the seemingly insignificant - more for myself than anyone's real entertainment. But I am also grateful that when I hit those dark days, I can still turn to writing but this time receive love and support in return for my confessional.
And that is my testimony of blogging . . . amen.