Nothing to Say

Lament is holy work too, so I’m just going to sit here in this space for a bit.

Photo by David Geneugelijk on Unsplash

I’ve tried to think of something to write or record this week. I have nothing to say, and if my husband were to add a comment to this post, he might let you know I rarely have nothing to say.

Usually, when I write, quippy stuff and lighthearted observations come to mind—I tone down a lot of the weirdness before it hits your inbox and sprinkle in the serious thoughts to prove I’m a productive and thoughtful human.

But I don’t have anything to offer. You didn’t sign up to read a rant, so I’ll spare you a long message where I barf onto the page. And you don’t need fake attempts at humor or lightheartedness because you’re smart. And you can spot fakeness from a mile away.

So, here we are.

Photo by Alex Padurariu on Unsplash

I’ve come too far in midlife to compromise on authenticity and fake a cheery post. And being over fifty also has a way of making me allergic to any drama, so I won’t stir the pot. But here’s the thing: not all heaviness is drama. Some weight we carry because it matters.

Lately, the weight of what’s going on in the world feels like too much. I can’t even make a list because it’s really long. And icky. And closer to home, I’ve been wrestling with the tension of what I believe faith should look like in action and how I fit or don’t fit in the spaces where I worship. It’s hard to reconcile. Hard to process.

It’s difficult to write when you’re stuck in that place of being “too” something and “not enough” something else to truly belong or form deep, trusting connections in real-life proximal community spaces. (I do appreciate my long-distance connections who make me feel safe and loved. And I SO appreciate my husband.)

So, I’ll just say this: if you’ve felt stuck, weighed down, or at odds with something you used to feel at home in, you’re not alone. Maybe that’s all I have to offer this week—an acknowledgment that we’re all navigating hard things, and sometimes, even the quippy humor takes a backseat.

For today, I’m giving myself permission to feel all the feels and not stuff them somewhere uncomfortable. I’m taking breaks from social media frequently and keeping my input filtered. But I. will. not. bury my head in the sand either. As painful as it is, I will pay attention and not pretend that all is well.

I’m refocusing on communicating with God and also on the beautiful people and blessings that are part of my life. And I’m communicating with my inner circle of family and friends.

Lament is holy work too, so I’m just going to sit here in this space and dwell in the waiting for a while. Come, sit with me if you’d like company. We don’t have to say anything. ~

Photo by Stephanie Harvey on Unsplash