I wonder if writing those early essays was an essential part of your journey "to leave behind many emotional burdens that [you] had been carrying"? To be bolder: I wonder if you could only write that culminating essay because you first allowed your unresolved anger to show up on the page?
There's an important distinction, I think, between what we write and what we publish. When we're trying to make sense of our lives, and especially trying to make sense of hurts and trials and hard things, honestly showing up on the page can be part of the healing process. It wouldn't have done any good, for example, for you to pretend that you WEREN'T angry about what had happened.
Yet when it comes to publishing, the goal is something different. We're not trying to process things at that point. We're bearing witness, whether intentionally or not.
A post like this one strikes me as being like a Psalm. David and the other psalmists had no qualms giving voice to big, ugly feelings. But they don't just vent and move on. Their venting becomes a cry upwards. God hears them, and they feel heard, as evidenced by the resolutions they almost always arrive at. That's precisely what you've done here and in your book, and we readers are the better for it.
Kori, when I read your ARC, I was struck over and over again by the grace and humility with which you write about those situations. It's so clear to me that, as painful as it's been to wrestle with, you've truly sought to understand others' perspectives, to weigh and test them against God's word for any truth. I really appreciate that - that you've taken such care not to villainize those who have hurt you, while at the same time being honest and vulnerable with readers about your own journey. I've certainly needed to grow in that regard, myself - especially as it pertains to anxiety and depression, the judgment of other Christians, and the resultant questions about my own faith. This was very encouraging to me. :)
Well said, Kori. Yes, I've had to do lots of writing, journaling, and counseling as part of my healing. And like the psalmists (as Frank mentions in his comment), I directed some of my anger at God. Of course, God knew/knows exactly what to do with that - surround with boundless love. I wish I could say I'm all done with the hurt, but it comes back around every once in a while to surprise me. Then I have to forgive all over again. Blessed are you for doing this work and doing it well!
Beautifully put, Kori.
I wonder if writing those early essays was an essential part of your journey "to leave behind many emotional burdens that [you] had been carrying"? To be bolder: I wonder if you could only write that culminating essay because you first allowed your unresolved anger to show up on the page?
There's an important distinction, I think, between what we write and what we publish. When we're trying to make sense of our lives, and especially trying to make sense of hurts and trials and hard things, honestly showing up on the page can be part of the healing process. It wouldn't have done any good, for example, for you to pretend that you WEREN'T angry about what had happened.
Yet when it comes to publishing, the goal is something different. We're not trying to process things at that point. We're bearing witness, whether intentionally or not.
A post like this one strikes me as being like a Psalm. David and the other psalmists had no qualms giving voice to big, ugly feelings. But they don't just vent and move on. Their venting becomes a cry upwards. God hears them, and they feel heard, as evidenced by the resolutions they almost always arrive at. That's precisely what you've done here and in your book, and we readers are the better for it.
This is excellent Kori! I almost wish it could have been included in the book as a coda!
It picks up where the ending leaves off for sure since we no longer attend the church where the final essay takes place. Maybe I need to do a sequel.
"Why My Hair Isn't Dyed Puprle Now" :)
LOL!!! Actually, that’s pretty accurate. Maybe I’ll do a Substack post with that title!
Kori, when I read your ARC, I was struck over and over again by the grace and humility with which you write about those situations. It's so clear to me that, as painful as it's been to wrestle with, you've truly sought to understand others' perspectives, to weigh and test them against God's word for any truth. I really appreciate that - that you've taken such care not to villainize those who have hurt you, while at the same time being honest and vulnerable with readers about your own journey. I've certainly needed to grow in that regard, myself - especially as it pertains to anxiety and depression, the judgment of other Christians, and the resultant questions about my own faith. This was very encouraging to me. :)
Great food for thought, Kori. This is something I want to explore in my writing, too. Thank you for sharing these thoughts!
Well said, Kori. Yes, I've had to do lots of writing, journaling, and counseling as part of my healing. And like the psalmists (as Frank mentions in his comment), I directed some of my anger at God. Of course, God knew/knows exactly what to do with that - surround with boundless love. I wish I could say I'm all done with the hurt, but it comes back around every once in a while to surprise me. Then I have to forgive all over again. Blessed are you for doing this work and doing it well!
This is beautiful to me. It en-courages and helps me. Thank you Kori.