I just spent a long time reading a friend's musings. Her honesty was striking -- as was the similarity between her struggles and mine. As I read I just cried. So much of what she wrote, what she writes, echoes the thoughts and feelings that are in my heart.

Honesty, honesty.

I long for the honesty that she has. To be able to speak in truth and freedom the things that I usually reserve for my journal -- the things that I fear to allow into the light of day. To express without fear of annoying those dear to me. To express without fear that freedom of expression will equal loss. Just honesty without fear. These thoughts are not confined to a certain area, to a certain place or type of relationship; I want pervasive honesty. I find myself in a vicious cycle at times. I find in myself a deep longing to be loved and cherished for exactly who I am. But even when I have this love, even when I feel it is on the horizon, I dread its loss...and I feel that it surely cannot be, for one reason or another. So I duck and weave around the pillars of truth and honesty, playing hide-and-seek with true love in every place it is found. But in the midst of my game I cease to be truly known as who and what I am -- because, obviously, I am hiding in one way or another. And thus any love I experience seems insecurely founded, and I arrive, again, in fearing love lost. To make it clear, once again, this applies so broadly to my life -- these are not the musings solely of a daughter, of a girlfriend, of a sister, of a friend. They are just musings from me. But the Lord has told me what I am to be. No more mousing around.

Honesty, honesty.

Not because I have unvoiced opinions. Not because I have previously been too insecure to be who I truly am. Not even because I have been dishonest. But because I am who He has made me to be, and there is no need for pretending. There is no need to conform to something else. There is no need for fear, because there is a love that supersedes all fear.

Even now, I'm tempted not to click "publish post" -- what if this is too introspective, too personal to launch out of my journal, too elementary, too emotionally driven? But I will click. After all, this is a conversation I'm having with my Father. And I know at least one other person who is having the same kind of conversations -- she wrote of them as well, and I'm thankful. So...click.