his understanding

IsaiahThe month of January, I am joining a group of writers talking about risking rejection. Thank you to Amy Sullivan for encouraging us to move out of our comfort zones. You can read her risk and all the links to others here.

Last week, I sought to take a risk and say no (not an easy feat for me). I can’t say I was totally successful. I said no to one thing, while finding myself in another spot, as a substitute. I tried, does that count?

The next two weeks I will talk about risks that are intertwined with writing. Let’s be honest, I am a worrier and a doubter. Every day I hit publish on here or somewhere else I feel so vulnerable, I can barely breath. Also, I very much love writing.

There has been a lot of risk involved and an unbelievable amount of rejection.

 

My risk this week is trying again.

Last winter, Kids Can Press, Citizen Kids donated an entire set of books to About Proximity. They were unbelievably generous and believed in our message.

citizen kidI worked to put together a series of play groups involving the books. They were super fun; games, interactive activities, a big dose of families making a difference. I gathered up my proposal and met with someone at the public library. They have a wonderful auditorium space. I thought it might be a worthwhile addition to their summer offerings.

A week later I received a no. Saying no is hard for me. Receiving no is hard. I tend to think the worst of myself and my ideas. (This did not fit their themes.)

I packed up the books and slid them in their box under my desk. The great moral of how I did not give up never happened, because I did just that. I felt very sad and did not keep trying.

My risk rejection this week is to gather those books and the plans up again. I will commit them to God. If I don’t find a home for them, we will line my street and fill up my house. I can’t wait to write about them this summer.

 

His understanding when we are rejected is so great.

His ability to not grow weary of us and our hearts is so great. They are everything to him.

We are Frangible. God is Not.

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Kneel.

 

When I kneel in prayer I feel my frailty.

 

Each breath is a gift.

The world around us is fragile.

Our well-planned dreams flimsy.

Our hearts vulnerable.

 

We are frangible.

(I found that word in the thesaurus. I like it. Frangible.)

Definition: readily or easily broken. 

 

Even when we feel frangible, we are strong.

Our frailty offered up to God is strength. We are acknowledging that we are not all that, but God is all of that and more.

 

Isaiah 40: 28

… he will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.

He understands that we are frangible… he’s strong enough to carry us. We need not fear our frailty.