I barfed under the Christmas tree, showering the canned goods that had been collected by my schoolmates. The perfect attendance award hadn't tempted me before, or since, but in the fifth grade I wanted it, bad enough to ignore my stomach flu and risk humiliation in front of the entire school.
Later, much later, I regurgitated on my college professors desk. This time it wasn't the contents of my stomach, but my soul. This time it was answers not accolades that I craved and I was willing to risk anything, even public humiliation to get them. I needed help sorting out the lie that had become my life and I didn't care who knew it as long as it could be fixed.
Now as I "throw up" the contents of my life on these blog pages I sometimes wonder if I put myself at risk for humiliation yet again. Do I say or show too much? Are my thoughts better kept locked safely in my mind or in a private book beside my bed? I often question this and yet I feel drawn, just as I had been to my fifth grade award and college answers, drawn to share my piece of this life experience. I want to tell a little bit of my story, to capture precious family moments, and to occasionally vent about those moments that are not so endearing. I want to help for I have been helped, inspire for I have been inspired, and speak the truths that are so mercifully taught to me each and every day.
I hope I can do this.
And I hope it is worth the risk.