I have always benefited from writing. For me it almost always brings clarity, insight and understanding. Sure enough every time I finish writing, whether it is for 10 minutes, 20 minutes or a whole hour I feel refreshed and rejuvenated. Miraculously, the world, or at least my own inner world, is less confusing and a bit easier to approach.
Lately though I have realized that writing has become…annoying. Just recently I was re-reading my current journal and recognized that still my life is not some nice, clean, organized space that I control. Quite honestly my life is anything but that; it is slippery, disorganized and dirty. I do not understand God, myself, or others. And if that is not enough writing continues to reveal to me that I am still often afraid, insecure and often times blind to the goodness of God all around me.
There could be of course an easy solution to this, stop writing and then you won’t have to “deal” with these issues. On one level it makes sense, if something is causing you pain stop doing that which is causing the pain and the pain will stop. I could theoretically stop writing and thereby avoid the confrontation it brings me with my true self. But the truth is… I don’t want to stop. On some strange level I like it …and it is actually healing. Discovering the “chaos” of my heart more deeply has led me to a profound conclusion. I am in need, not of just another friend, therapist, diet, or vacation, as good as all of those things are, but I am in need of someone who is truly capable of healing my entire being from the inside out. In short, I need Jesus.
It is true; I could run from this reality and continue to live under the illusion that I am self-sufficient and capable of self perfection. But why would I want to do that? Writing leads me to the heart of God.
+ Fr. Jeremiah Myriam Shryock, CFR
Saint Joseph Friary
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