I poured my heart out on the page. I closed my eyes and transported myself back in time. I asked myself questions. I analyzed my actions.
And somehow I found words. No, I found my voice.
We puttered and changed and revised.
And there it was — attached to that email. The one that said, "yes, it's ready."
I clicked send and in a flash it was gone. Left in its wake, fear. Dread.
No going back now.
I had written a guest post for a friend's blog which described my story, dealing and healing from childhood sexual abuse.
I knew it was time. It was something I wanted to do. I chose to share it.
But once the email was sent I wanted to suck it all back in. Why?
I was afraid.
How would people react? Would they react? Would people understand?
It was posted the next day. I didn't die. And no one pointed fingers.
In the weeks to follow, a series of posts detailing my honest feelings and how God was healing me.
The fear is real, but there is beauty.
God nudged me to share my story when I was ready. He covered my fears with peace and assurance. An assurance that by vulnerably laying my heart bare, He would bless and encourage others.
We can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good. (Romans 8:28, The Message)
Linking today with Lisa-Jo…