Imposter.

Imposter.

This is the word I used when I told her why I was so hesitant to tell the church I would like to go to Africa with them. Because that is exactly how I feel. Even now. Even after I told them, yes I’ll go. My insides are screaming, we are no longer the same. We no longer believe the same. Does that mean we do not belong in that world?

When I come up for air I remember that I am a good listener. I will never look at someone with judgement. I will hear gracefully, only offering if they are asking to receive. I will never force what I believe on someone else. I will simply exist with them and hope that my presence offers whatever is needed.

Sometimes I think about how disappointed Bryan would be if he knew me now. I wonder if maybe that’s why I disconnected any emotional attachment I had to him. It was easier for me to just leave him in the past with that other version of me. The one he was proud of, invested in. She needed him, I don’t.

I know some of the things that are coming. Speaking our testimony being one. All I can think of is the blink of my computer, waiting for me to write it. Write anything. But it just blinks and blinks and blinks. How do you write out something with a beginning, middle, and ending when you barely know the first sentence?