Hope Writes

Words pour out of me—a torrent of expression and emotion. Stories, articles, journal rantings, blog posts. Revisions three or four times, then a sending of the results to editors, publishers, agents.

This writing is how I process grief. How I find my way through the valley and back to life. Future joy is hidden within paragraphs waiting to be uncovered.

Bullet journaling helps validate my limitations:

  • A surprise trigger in the middle of Wal-Mart
  • Escape to the pets aisle, hang over the cat food, and weep
  • A burnished copper mum on sale at Lowe’s. Buy it now. I need it.
  • Driving through Sonic for cheese tots because grief does not care if I eat healthy
  • The salt of tears, the salt of cheese tots—both necessary
  • A gust of wind driving Deb’s wind mobile brings a sudden blip of happiness
  • Gratitudes written at the end of each day, forcing myself to find hope
  • On my knees in prayer, begging for Paraclete comfort
  • Feeling closer to Jesus because he was a man of sorrows

Madeleine L’ Engle wrote, “It is through story that I was able to make some small sense of the confusions and complications of life.”

That truth is my purpose in the pouring out of words. To find some sense in the loss, some purpose for the taking away.

A new connection on LinkedIn wrote, “Write the best book possible, then share it with the world, to encourage others.”

So I reach for that goal. Begin a new journal. Open another pack of gel pens. Grateful for the outpouring of words, stories, and blog posts that underscore where I am in this search for my new normal.

Or perhaps a new abnormal, because grief always changes us. Scrapes us raw, then forces us to see the beauty of what we had before. The gratitudes we might have taken for granted.

Knowing that others are searching, too. Longing for their own direction, to process their sufferings in healthy ways.

“When my anxious thoughts multiply within me, your consolations delight my soul” (Psalm 94:19 NASB).

How sweet that the best way to console comes through the communications gift God gave me. This creative urge sustains and upholds, dissects yet discerns.

I am grateful for the process and the journey to honor my grief. Although hating the reason for this valley, perhaps the ultimate meaning brings a better crafting. More outreach of the sentences that define my gifting.

Even in the darkness, words continue to pulse. And writing confirms that the Creator at work in us is also the Giver of Hope.

©2023 RJ Thesman – All Rights Reserved

If you are also a processor through the gift of writing, then marketing your words is important. For a guidebook with some practical ideas, check out Marketing for Writers: How to Effectively Promote Your Words.

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