Ann told me yesterday that you need to read my messy stories. So that you know you're not the only one.
She writes of Dietrich Bonhoeffer writing -
“The Christian needs another Christian who speaks God’s Word to him. He needs him again and again when he becomes uncertain and discouraged, for by himself he cannot help himself without belying the truth. He needs his brother as a bearer and proclaimer of the divine word of salvation.”
But I'm not sure I can be your bearer. I don't even think I have the strength to be my own bearer.
I'm supposed to tell you how messy my not wanting to get out of bed is. How my broken vows helped me keep my vows (I know I've promised that one for a while now, I'm still working on courage). Tell you what a wreck I am and how I wrestle with my faith and have more questions than answers.
She says souls are at stake, she says I am at risk.
She says it will make me become smaller and I will become more.
She says God has poured His spirt out onto me and His children shall prophesize. Acts 2:17
I am not Ann. My words don't strum like soft melodies or pierce hearts with understanding.
My blog will sometimes be about me and mine. But I'm trying. And my promise to you is that I will pray over each post. Pray that even if you just hear Max struggling with a new word or see my pores seeping with pride over a child - you will see Jesus. Somehow He will take what I fail write and touch your need, bring the smile to you that the day has so far placed out of your reach.
Many times I keep my messy stories from you. If you read carefully they are between the lines, the riddles I've been told I write. Shame is hard to shine bright light on, hard to fill white space with.
We need each other as the bearer and proclaimer of the divine word of salvation. I need you to remind me, lift me up when I'm sliding down the door frame in pain. (I'll share that one in days to come.)
So if I bear yours, will you bear mine?
