Explanation by Asterisks

A few months ago, I had a life-changing experience that gave me a glimpse of my future. At the moment of this experience, I knew two things simultaneously: 1) Everything’s going to be okay and 2) I didn’t ever need to write another blog post.

So I quit writing. But I’ve been getting some requests for an explanation, so I’m going to give it my best shot here:

* I am constantly at battle with the desire to be understood and the reluctance to give of myself.

* Sometimes I forget that I should not swallow when I turn my head over to apply hair product. Swallowing when upside down makes the saliva run into my nasal cavity rather than down my throat. This feels just like getting chlorine up my nose when jumping in a pool. But there’s no chlorine in saliva. I don’t get that.

* I am slow of speech and quick of action. Some people regret saying too much. I regret saying too little. Sometimes I regret shoving things in cabinets and closing the door fast before anything falls out. But I have not yet regretted driving too fast.

* I think I am finally learning what it means to receive a blessing. Not just with my mind, not just with my heart, but with my body. And it’s reducing me because the bigness of it crushes me. The physical act of reception in spiritual matters is where I’ve kept myself guarded all these years.

* Everything has its pros and cons. But when love is a pro, it outweighs all cons.

* This constant introspection is not peaceful. Not peaceful. Not peaceful. It’s torture. And the inspecting of other people’s intros only adds to it. I am finding it an addiction much like sugar that I might as well inject straight into my veins and give my tired brain (and stomach) a rest.

* When all else fails, do a high kick.

Or maybe this will help explain things better: A few months ago I was in the dressing room of Forever 21, waiting for my daughter who is nowhere near 21 to finish trying on clothes and I caught a glimpse of my future. A mom, maybe ten years older than me was in the dressing room waiting for her three daughters, maybe ten years older than my three daughters. And those three lovely, young ladies all opened their dressing room doors at the same time to show their mom the dresses they were trying on for their youngest sister’s high school graduation. What I realized as I watched them was that they loved each other very much. The mom loved the daughters, the daughters loved the mom, the sisters loved each other. And the mom was still mom, even though the girls were older.

And suddenly I knew it was all going to be okay. Reduced to the simplicity I needed:

* I’ve had a pretty good life.
* My life right now is pretty good.
* In the future I’m still going to have a pretty good life.

One, two, three.

Everything’s going to be okay.

Why that means I lost my need to write, I’m not sure yet. But I’m doing what I need to do. Life’s pretty good and I’m going to direct my mullings elsewhere for now.

Thanks for reading.

  1. #1 by Carlee on July 22, 2009 - 1:59 pm

    It is so hard for me to leave a comment on a post like this. You have said a lot and I can’t think of a few words that would be an adequate response. I think I am just more of a conversationalist. I need to talk things out. I need to ask questions. I just want you to know that when I don’t comment it is not because I don’t care. It just seems to me that you have said a lot, but as always, there is much that you haven’t said. So much is still locked up inside, and for me to pretend that I understand just by reading what is on the outside would just be presumptuous. Well… that was a weird comment. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I love the picture of that woman with her girls.


  2. #2 by Chris Linebarger on July 22, 2009 - 4:56 pm

    Your life is beautiful. It gives me a fierce peace. Being able to experience first-hand the things that God is doing in your life makes me grateful and glad. This feels like a good ending of one chapter and the beginning of another great one. Goodbye blog.


  3. #3 by Jackie on July 22, 2009 - 6:37 pm

    I think that’s cool.


  4. #4 by plunky on July 22, 2009 - 8:24 pm

    I think it’s cool, too. But I will still miss the dramatic expressions of angst and otherwise entertaining accounts of Linebarger family life. I suppose we’ll have to lurk your photography site for the new fiercely peaceful artistic expressions.

    And if Chris uses the words “goodbye” and “blog” together one more time….


  5. #5 by Chris Linebarger on July 23, 2009 - 10:56 am

    : )


  6. #6 by marce on July 23, 2009 - 12:08 pm

    Blog or no blog…I’ll always be a Fierce Peace Homey. Word.


  7. #7 by plunky on July 23, 2009 - 12:53 pm

    marce, you’re so street. yo.


  8. #8 by Carlee on July 23, 2009 - 12:58 pm

    It’s all cool, guys. And Jackie, I think you’re cool. Hope you are feeling alright.


  9. #9 by cAPSLOCK on July 23, 2009 - 1:36 pm

    Hmm… It is good to know you Leslie.


  10. #10 by Mom on July 23, 2009 - 4:04 pm

    I have missed this blog so much that I go to your photography website only to realize that nothing changes there, This was a good one Leslie. Everything is going to be alright indeed.


  11. #11 by Lety on July 23, 2009 - 9:18 pm

    Leslie, because you say to little words the times i got the opportunity to be around you, this blog gave me a chance to get to know you better and I only have to thank you because you are one of the few people that had a great impact on my life, you have shown to me the real love of God and you have share something that makes me realize that there is always hope, to meet lovely people, I am going to miss you very much because this is the only way to be part of your life……thanks again….God bless you ….


  12. #12 by Anna on July 24, 2009 - 5:20 pm

    Possibly,the reson you lost the need to wright,(although it can’t be all gone, since you made the post) is that it may help you sort through things now,so that if the future isn’t a basket of roses,you can look back to when things were good.But since you know that everything will be o.k.,it’s not necessary anymore. But please don’t stop. This blog is to addictive!


  13. #13 by Jason on July 25, 2009 - 2:58 am

    Couldn’t one also say “before all else fails, do a high kick?” It is my contention that a high kick is often the preferred response to the many situations one finds themselves in (the cereal isle of the grocery store, or after a Lancelot Andrewes workshop).

    I will miss your posts.


  14. #14 by Rocky on July 26, 2009 - 10:27 pm

    I don’t believe it, not for a minute!


  15. #15 by Pilgrim on July 30, 2009 - 2:56 pm

    I can only hope to be the recipient of some of those mullings in person….


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