Even just a bit

"Please, God. When I see someone struggle and it doesn’t make sense… Please let me remember these words. Burn them in my memory and bring them to my heart. Let me feel this sting when I’m tempted to cast judgment on the life of another.

Because we really don’t know the heart of another, the circumstances of a life. We don’t know if we’d buckle knees and fall limp walking the path of another. But either way, stand or fall, we’ll be judged on how we handle their heart.

And when you share your heart, place it in your hands and offer it as gift, you make it vulnerable. Because there are people out there who can’t bear the sight of soul wounds. And that’s why it’s a dare to reveal your heart, even just a bit."
- One Thousand Gifts, evlogia

A dare to reveal your heart, even just a bit...
I read that tonight, and really, sucked in a deep breath.

Last week a good friend, a kindred spirit, challenged me, and asked, "what is your writing goal?" 
A writing goal?

I had to ponder.
A writing goal?
Honesty, I answered.

But honesty? that comes at different levels, right?
There's "honestly, let me tell you how much I adore fresh coffee and sunshine and a good book."
And then there's "I am a broken sinner, almost paralyzed, searching for His grace today."

Sometimes I've written, offered a bit, and felt that sting, of words misunderstood and a response that burns and falling limp with that ache in the very pit of my stomach. 
But I know Grace, from He that heard the words that betray and felt the end of the whip and the crown of thorns and gave His life away for me.  I have been saved, and changed, and forgiven. 
He has given me a story to tell and words to offer.

And so yes, I will write about the silliness of the world around me, of the nonsense and little joys and beauty. 
And yes, I hope, I can offer words of life, of my heart and the vulnerable things.
Even just a bit.