Writing Raw

Tonight I’m doing something I never do: writing raw. On purpose.

On purpose, generally, I never write raw.  I write. I let it set. I come back and rewrite. If it seems pretty set, I “publish.”  Tonight I’m writing raw.

Eighteen months ago a journey began here at our house. Totally uncharted territory. Big time. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know what to feel, I didn’t know what to think, I didn’t know what to say.

But time went on… and as time went on, I began to know what to do, I began to know what to feel, I began to know what to think, I began to know what to say.  But all the while I was guarded.  I guarded the doing, I guarded the feeling, I guarded the thinking, I guarded the saying.

And then the baby was born.   A Beautiful. Precious. Marvelous. Blessing: this baby.

God’s great, glorious grace.

9 more months have passed.   Time’s quickly slipped away.  Long days, short months.

And as time’s gone on, I’ve known what to do, I’ve known what to feel, I’ve known what to think, I’ve known what to say.  But all the while, I think I’ve been a bit guarded.  I’ve still guarded the doing, I’ve still guarded the feeling, I’ve still guarded the thinking, I’ve still guarded the saying.

Tonight, the baby and the mama begin the next chapter of this story.
It’s quiet here tonight. It will be quiet here tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.

So tonight, the writing is raw.  Unguarded tears.

I’ll remember how it felt. Knowing I’d do it again. Raw living.  In a heartbeat.