Can I let you in on a secret? On New Year's Day I bought a little notebook and each day since I've written in it. I'm hoping I have the guts to write unabashedly dear diary style. Then I'm hoping to use this record as notes for a book I've entitled Secrets of a Seminary Wife. I'm not talkin' secrets about how to get grass stains out of your little boys' jeans. I'm talking about a tell-all story about me--warts and all. It'll be like Tammy Faye Baker gets saved on Wisteria Lane. And maybe I will slip in some secrets on how to get grass stains out because, heck, we've gotta deal with that, too.
Why? Because I wish the world knew what happens here. Here at seminary. Here in the heart of a believer. That we struggle. That half the people I know are on food stamps and Medicaid working their tails off trying to do what God has called them to do. That we sin, too--we get angry, we are lustful, we lie. That sometimes the only thing that keeps us going is an obscure hope. That we have found beauty in simplicity. That living without cable isn't so bad. That eating out isn't a necessity. That children are a blessing and not a burden. (And that we have so many of them because we're too poor to do anything else. KIDDING! You can close your gaping mouth now.)
Of course it will only be published posthumously because deep down in my soul I'm chicken. I imagine that perhaps Piper will find my dusty manuscript one day buried in a trunk of her mother's things and read it through tear-filled eyes vowing to tell our story. Because I'm dramatic like that. = )
So if anyone wants to saddle up next to me on the playground and spill your guts to me, that would be great.
What do you think? Do you ever think about giving the world a backstage pass to your stained glass masquerade?
Why? Because I wish the world knew what happens here. Here at seminary. Here in the heart of a believer. That we struggle. That half the people I know are on food stamps and Medicaid working their tails off trying to do what God has called them to do. That we sin, too--we get angry, we are lustful, we lie. That sometimes the only thing that keeps us going is an obscure hope. That we have found beauty in simplicity. That living without cable isn't so bad. That eating out isn't a necessity. That children are a blessing and not a burden. (And that we have so many of them because we're too poor to do anything else. KIDDING! You can close your gaping mouth now.)
Of course it will only be published posthumously because deep down in my soul I'm chicken. I imagine that perhaps Piper will find my dusty manuscript one day buried in a trunk of her mother's things and read it through tear-filled eyes vowing to tell our story. Because I'm dramatic like that. = )
So if anyone wants to saddle up next to me on the playground and spill your guts to me, that would be great.
What do you think? Do you ever think about giving the world a backstage pass to your stained glass masquerade?
Love it! I would read it :) I might even try to figure out who's who (because you are changing names, right?)
ReplyDeleteI wish I had a dollar for every time I cried behind closed doors and put on an "I'm ok and blessed" fake attitude on the outside. I wish I had a dollar for every time I went to my pantry and it was empty, and wondered if I had heard God right. I wish I had a dollar for every time I saw God come through in miraculous ways with financial provision, job provision, confirmation of calling, etc. I think your project is much needed, especially for the first semester seminary wife who wonders what she is getting herself into and how can she make it on days it seems her faith is under intense fire from the enemy and on the breaking point. Praying for you as you start this journey.
ReplyDeleteGirl, you better leave me a few chapters!!! You've already written what the majority of us feel! Thanks for your honesty! It is refreshing!
ReplyDeleteFantastic idea! My prayer for about 4 years is that I would have the courage to smash my mask! Unfortunately, I keep gluing the thing back together! :)
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