Emily Wierenga asked me to join her Imperfect Prose team late in 2012. Honored, humbled I responded with an excited “yes”. Today is my first time leading off the Imperfect Prose community. I chose the prompt, encouragement. And then I struggled to write. The fog settled in and the walls came up.
But before you go there …
So, I emailed Holly, a member of the Imperfect Prose team of writers and asked for prayer. Later I gave Emily glimpses into my wrestling spirit.
Immediately this word became real. It wore flesh and bones and had a heart.
The possibility held in the word encouragement became manifested through their actions, their very words.
It seemed I couldn’t draw from the well on my own. They undergirded and strengthened me.
But the process I went through of fog and uncertainty were necessary for working out true understanding.
There is a mystery in why. But on the other side it felt needed. The struggle strengthened.
In the middle of my struggle, a bird flew into the glass door through which I see the world while I write. Injured and broken, lying on my porch, I felt viscerally, the injury along with him.
He couldn’t fly. I couldn’t help. He lay wounded. I ached.
There was so much imagery in this crippled bird for my soul to soak in. I left for a bit and when I returned he was gone. There were no signs of death, no stray feathers. My heart hopes there was recovery for him.
I choose to think he flew away.
And I think of how encouragement is poured out. Where it starts and stops. What transpires in our struggle, in the times when we feel on our backs in defeat. And yet the Saints intercede and pray.
And speak words of encouragement into our souls.
And we too can fly again.
Please join me as we explore encouragement. See you at Em’s.