It’s been almost a month since I’ve written anything for my blog. I’ve deeply missed the writing. I don’t know if any readers have necessarily missed me, but that is not something I’m worried about. Although it’s really nice to have people read you, comment on your writing, resonate with your thoughts, and miss you, I write for me. Sorry if that sounds selfish, but I think that is probably the reason most people write. It is so cathartic for me to write that I’ve really missed it. I’ve had so many emotions churning around in my head and heart the past 3 weeks that I couldn’t even sort them to write one post. I tried more than once and it just wouldn’t work. So today I’m writing whether it makes sense or not. I need to get something out.
The past 3 weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions. First there was the Thanksgiving holiday where we had some greatfulness mixed in with some sadness at not having our traditional meal with all of our family here. Second, I was offered a part-time writing job unsolicited. Someone who had read my blog, gave my name out as a possible writer for this project. While I wasn’t searching for a job, this one seemed like it might be a good fit. Originally, I thought it was only going to occur quarterly and that would have been perfect for my life. After I’d given my acceptance of the job, I found out it would be monthly and although that was more than what I really wanted, I still decided to give it a try. So for 3 weeks I was employed once again and something was taking up space in my head and taking up time from my day. There were a lot of emotions surrounding that as the subject matter was a very heartbreaking one with a message of hope intertwined. There was also the strong desire to do my very best and get the job done as best as I could, so I spent a lot of hours writing and rewriting and refining the story that I was chosen to tell. And there was the stress of a timeline.
That all ended yesterday. After much thought, soul searching, and loss of sleep, I decided this was taking too much time and I needed to tell the person in charge that I was no longer going to be writing for them. I wanted to make sure the present project was completed so I was going to continue until that was done. They seemed very agreeable, gave me good feedback on the writing I’d already done and I thought all was well. The day after I talked to this person, they called me back to tell me that they didn’t like the writing I’d already done and they were having someone else rewrite it but still wanted my help on the rest of the project, with what I considered the “grunt work”. I’m not above grunt work, I’m not a prima dona, but my trust for this person had been shattered and I no longer felt I could work with them. I felt that the working agreement had already been broken so I was not bound by the rest of it. We parted ways and I consider it an answer to prayer.
However, the emotions of feeling betrayed and deceived have been churning in my heart and I’m trying to work through them. I read someone else’s blog this morning on trusting people and how she gives her trust easily and then sometimes regrets it. It sounded familiar because I do the same thing, much to my husband’s consternation. I fall for people who use me, who “play” me, and I end up hurting and struggling to find my feet again. For my sake, I will forgive this person just as I have multiple people in the past. I will try to believe the best of them, in spite of the way they treated me, because we all do things that aren’t perfect and could possibly hurt someone even if that’s not our intent. Because God forgave us so much more. Who am I to judge, condemn, or withhold my forgiveness when I am the worst of the worst?
I am feeling much more at peace with the whole situation but probably will always be confused with the about face they seemed to do with my writing. I feel I need to add a disclaimer here. I do not and never have considered myself or sold myself as a journalist or a professional writer. They were full aware of my abilities when they sought me out, they had the opportunity to read my writing here. So lest you all think I think I’m doing a much better job than I am, rest assured that is not the case. Like I said at the start of this post, I write for me. In the end, that is what makes me happy.