Friday, May 24, 2013

When a Writer is Lost For Words

Mother's Day 2013

I don't know what to say.

Your over-the-top, grace-full, raining-down-love response to last week's post has left me speechless.

What to say when you bare your not-enough-ness, words raw and strained, and the ones who read those words cup them gently close as with a broken winged bird and whisper love?

And so I will say the only thing I can, which of course cannot convey the way tears of gratitude coursed down my face as I read your notes of encouragement and "me, too" and offers to come and clean our grimy house (!!!) --

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

I said to a fellow grief blogger just a little while ago that writing here has saved my life twice over -- first with my eating disorder, and then with the continuing grief over Eve's death.  But that's not quite accurate.  Because really, blogging saves my life every time I sit down before the blank page and spill my innards out.  Every time I speak my truth, no matter its heft, my heart grows stronger and my steps straighter and my faith deeper.

And a lot of that is because of you, because of this community of friends who lift up and lift up and lift up when my spirit has gone weak.

Thank you for not turning away.  Thank you for entering in.

I cannot say it enough.  Your embracing of my words, my story, my life unfurling in this small corner of the world . . . it means everything.

Thank you.

* * * 

I'm honored to be participating in Sarah McCarten's 30 Things project today.  Follow me over to read the 30 things I'd like you to know . . .


  1. <3!! I'm so glad we're in the same community of writers! Somehow it makes those moments when we fall a little less hurtful knowing that there are loving arms to help us get back us. :-)

    1. Yes, yes, and yes! So grateful for you, Caleigh.

  2. Your writing is so moving. Sending you strong positive vibes to keep on, keeping on.

  3. Beth, just read the post you referenced and thanking God for all who grabbed hold of you and loved you. You know I would never say I understand your grief but I do understand anxiety and depression and the battle to feel okay with everything not being okay. I know what it is like not to be able to even say a word--literally, and this from an extrovert. But you know I am convinced that there are no accidents and I believe that I landed on your blog and found you in expectancy of a baby girl and I was devastated when Eve died and then my friend lost her son Grant. I saw her in real life and read your words and wept for you both.

    Now can I say that I am, as limited as we are by distance, bearing your pain with you...that I believe that anxiety will not have the last word in your life? I believe that you will continue to give hope, speak life, fill with life on this blog and in your art and you and the best husband ever will make it through these days until the broad place comes and the breathing becomes easier and the joy palpable. And I believe that this journey will lead many to hope because they aren't alone in this world, that another understands and cares---deeply. Beth, I am praying for you. Keep writing your words---the words that "make souls stronger" because there are so many who need to know that wrestling is a real part of life and vulnerability is the key to laying out your heart so God can piece it back together, a work of art, a mosaic of love, and pain, fear and so many other emotions that come together dark and light to create beauty. It is mystery but it is truth.

  4. " Because really, blogging saves my life every time I sit down before the blank page and spill my innards out. "

    Blogging has saved me so many times since 2001. In so many ways. On so many days that end in y.

    I am thinking of and praying for you.



"I am glad you are here with me."
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King