"piece me whole"

Hey there. I sure have missed y'all.

I'm enjoying my Tumblr site, but it organically grew into a visual blog since I gravitate toward photography and images; they speak to me. And I am saying something specific with each photograph (and quote) I "tumble," yet it's not writing. I could write over on Just Jenni, but Dreams of Genevieve is my blog-home, the birth and growth of what I choose to journal in the virtual public square.

So, I'm in a blog-mood again after several months of thinking that Dreams of Genevieve, or any dreams for that matter, were over. I sludged through a few months of darkness and sorrow, partially of my own devising. I came to the obvious realization that I'm not "all that." People generally think well of me, which is truthful since that image is who God designed me to be. It's who I am when I live and move and have my being in Christ. But I'm also human, capable of just as much stupidity as anyone else. I felt very fragmented, and clung to Arthur Alligood's song, "Piece Me Together," (from I Have Not Seen the Wind) like a personal hymn:

I can't make it on my own
I can't make it on my own
All these years of trying have taken their toll
I can't make it on my own

I can't take another night
I can't take another night
I always end up in the darkness waiting on the light
I can't take another night

You're gonna have to piece me together
Piece me whole
Piece me together to get me home

I can't make it on my own
I can't make it on my own
Like a lost child I have wandered, but in my heart now I know
I can't make it on my own

There is a story to tell, but this isn't the right time and it may never be. I aim to write memoirs and the genre is a cautious endeavor. When I write about others, I will need to remember that their story is just that — their story. Every writer bears a phenomenal responsibility to quiet the words that need not be read. Regarding my story, it's about wisdom — keeping it hidden in Christ for as long as it needs to rest and heal. I don't have to share every single thing I'm thinking or feeling; very often, I should direct those emotions into deep prayers, and onto pages of Moleskines.

Well, on Easter Sunday, the weight of my burden was finally, surprisingly lifted off my weary shoulders. It was quite the appropriate day to actually feel redemption, peace, and joy. I worshiped, sang, smiled, feasted, and literally partied with my Church family. I felt able to surrender. ("Surrender" is an entire blog post in and of itself.)

I do believe God's blessings will continue to unfold until all of my cryptic tale is restored and made right. It'll be exactly like this:

"When the LORD restored the
fortunes of Zion,
we were like those who dream.
Then our mouth was filled with laughter;
and our tongue with shouts of joy ...
The LORD has done great things for us;
we are glad."
[Psalm 126:1-2a, 3]

Hallelujah and amen.