When he returns my email with unexpected compliments, I think about it:
Why I was afraid to check my inbox for his response.
Why I was afraid to send the message in the first place.
Why I tremble even when someone listens in on me practicing.
Why I love the last verse of this song.
I say often that I write because I need to,
Because I can't help it,
And that's true.
It's very true.
But there's another reason I write, too.
It's because I feel alone.
Because I'm afraid that,
In spite of everything I've heard,
In spite of everything I believe,
No one else feels what I'm feeling.
So I write.
I pour out my heart on hundreds of pages that no one else will ever set eyes on,
But somewhere,
Deep down,
I'm hoping that someone will see,
And that someone will say,
"You're not alone.
I feel it, too."
Every night, I write a song.
Most of them are really bad,
Scribbled down hurriedly because I need to go to bed sometime before 2 AM,
But I put myself into all of them,
All six hundred nine of my attempts
To process life,
This world,
These feelings,
And try to convince myself I'm not alone.
I put so much self into them that,
If people don't like them,
It's hard not to feel like they don't like me,
But,
Even more than that,
It's hard not to feel that I am alone,
That no one else understands any of this mess I'm struggling through,
That I've made myself vulnerable and all it got me was a broken heart.
Do you feel that?
Please say you feel it, too.
I think it's one of the reasons we bloggers love getting comments so much.
It lets us know someone is listening,
That someone appreciates what we have to say,
That someone feels what we're going through,
That someone understands.
So we type words on screens
And lay hearts bare,
Taking the risk that we might be left wounded and bleeding
Because we believe the reward to be worth it.
It's even harder with music,
Because it's so much easier to accidentally say something corny or cliché,
So much easier to come up with a bad melody or accompaniment that ruins the whole thing,
So much easier to be criticized because of tiny, insignificant details,
And end up feeling like there's something wrong with more than just the chord transition in measure fifty-five,
There's something wrong with you.
And it's not that artists and writers don't want to be criticized, either -
Really, I believe it's one of the things I need most,
That it will help me to grow,
But I also know that someone could easily take it too far,
Say the wrong words in the wrong order,
Or even the right words in the right order,
And it will tear into the part of me I made vulnerable,
Leave me wounded,
Scarred,
Bleeding.
To write is to risk,
To risk everything we humans hold most dear.
And that's why we write.
Because,
At the end of the day,
All these things I'm afraid of?
They're me holding on to pride,
Me searching for worth in other people's opinions,
Me believing I deserve recognition.
I make myself vulnerable because these parts of me need to die.
But there's another reason, too.
It's why I write these words here,
Pour out my heart where the whole world can see,
And this Christian blogging community,
These bloggers who have become my friends,
They respond to my raw emotions,
And they say,
"You're not alone.
I feel it, too."
Sharing these words I scribbled out last night,
As I pondered all these things.
Rough, but maybe -
Just maybe -
You feel it, too?
Vulnerable
If I lay out my soul on the page,
Someone might come in hate,
Rip it to shreds,
Leave me half-dead.
I'm vulnerable.
If I lay my heart down here,
Someone might give me reason to fear,
Stab it right through,
Blood gushing from the wound.
I'm vulnerable.
And it's dangerous
To live life like this,
'Cause, if I willingly step into the light,
I'll have no place left to hide,
And someone will come,
Someone will come
When I'm vulnerable.
If I pour myself in the song,
Someone will call it "wrong",
Pierce through the dream
Right into me.
I'm vulnerable.
If I offer it to all,
Someone will come to call,
And what they say of what I sing
Is what they say about me.
I'm vulnerable.
And it's dangerous
To live life like this,
'Cause, if I willingly step into the light,
I'll have no place left to hide,
And someone will come,
Someone will come
When I'm vulnerable.
And I am so afraid,
I am so afraid
Because there's so much more at stake
Than simple words on a page.
The song is who I am,
The song is where I stand,
And, if they rip it to shreds,
I'm sure they'll leave me dead,
I'm sure they'll leave me dead.
And it's dangerous
To live life like this,
'Cause, if I willingly step into the light,
I'll have no place left to hide,
And SomeOne will come,
SomeOne will come
And whisper, "It's alright,
You don't have to hide,
And, if your heart breaks right in two,
I'm here to see you through.
I know that you're afraid,
But, in Me, you are Safe,
Even when you're vulnerable."
Even when I'm vulnerable,
Vulnerable.
©2012 Mary SchiefersteinSo, do you feel it, too?
Please tell me . . .
Grateful today for:
~ This online community. Each and every one of you means a lot to me. Thank you for your friendship and constant support.And, of course, thanking Him for who He is,
~ The chance to pour raw emotion into lines and rhymes and melodies. So good to let it all out.
~ A different kind of Safe - His Safe, a Safe that involves risk and danger, but leaves me resting in His arms
~ What's coming later this week. So excited!
~ A new year. So amazing how He makes things new!
Counting these reasons today,
Reasons 2639-2802 today,
Wanting so badly to seek after Him,
And to see Him as He is:
(Sylvia's already made it to - past - 10,000! So amazing to think of who He is like this!)
<a href="http://maryschieferstein.blogspot.com/search/label/10000%20Reasons" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitidrfBKBWTHSBiWyh3WMRKjHFgYKk-RxjYB9-uePQb1-uI3t3bjysPnR65zloJJ0LgTqhT5kW70Rk8VOC2utXFUWhGRPIxNCqzZ_9YQryYPMJdj2XpiX0oawLUiMnmxFOeMkmjk3IIA/s320/10000ReasonsButton.jpg" /></a>
Counting in community:
Also, linking up here:
