For a few very hard years this word was my mantra.
The word means
-undismayed; not discouraged; not forced to abandon purpose or effort
-undiminished in courage or valor; not giving way to fear
But the truth is, I was often dismayed by everything that had taken place, and I did battle discouragement. I battled fear and doubts. I hurt and was angry, and sometimes "undaunted" sounded more like a mockery than a mantra, and I was determined to be real about all of it in these posts, thus the name, Undaunted Reality. More than that, though, I was determined to live undaunted, not because I'm so great or strong, but because my God is, and no matter what this world looks like, He is the only reality that matters.
I pray I live the reality of Him beautifully undaunted.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

My Journal Uncensored (Maybe You Can Relate)--Part 2

I started to write something on my blog about wanting to be a light for those needing a connection, hug, or some hope, but really this holiday season has left me with nothing to say, and maybe it would be better to see folks after the first of the year.

But then there are the emails and comments from people who found "a kindred spirit", hope, or inspiration in all the pain and ugly of the last 18 months. Whatever they found encouraged them to be brave, to believe for healing, to hope a bit longer.

I haven't the foggiest what it was.

To me it all just looks like a disaster scene from a nightmare. But I wonder, if something in that disaster scene inspired even one person, is there someone else being inspired? Is someone else finding hope?

I know what it is to be hopeless, begging for something--ANYthing--that gives a reason to believe there is healing, that it won't always hurt so much. I know the places God has placed those treasures for me, the places that make no sense to anyone else, the sentences and phrases that have no great truth but somehow mean everything. I understand the mystery of God that allows a fuzzy mold to become the life-saving antibiotic. Too many times I have wept with the relief of being known, of being found, because I saw the medicine when others only saw mold.

Who am I to decide if this mold has a greater purpose?

All I know is He said to write--even when it hurt deeply, even when it was ugly, even when it was more honest and transparent than I ever wanted to be...Even when I am the moldy one.

And so, the blog remains...


  1. I am ever so thankful and blessed by you being so courageous that you share your hurt and the depth of your hope and love for God.

  2. You bless me deep, precious friend. You bless me deep.

    Love you!