I’m still sorting things out, seeking wisdom about what I walked through those difficult, dark two months that I stopped blogging. I’m not holding on to the past. I desire to learn from it; where I missed the mark, how to keep from falling into the same traps, and how to help someone out of a similar struggle.

The battle was intense and deeply personal. I was contending with an enemy I couldn’t touch, see, or name. Lies were incessant, even if I wouldn’t believe them, they were coming with such constancy that it became easier to retreat and escape than to withstand and press through.

But I had to. I had to make the decision to begin again, even when I didn’t feel ready.

You see, I have this tremendous opportunity, one that is much bigger than me, to travel to Africa for the very first time in my life. In January 2014, I’m going with several other bloggers and World Help, the same organization that you already know I love and support, and the same one I went to Guatemala with for Operation Baby Rescue October 2012, and Haiti in March 2013.

This time we are going to Uganda and Rwanda. We’ll be storytelling from there, and you’ll be able to follow the journey. We are raising funds to build three rescue homes. For nearly half the year I’ve had the privilege of helping with all sorts of behind the scenes stuff, not just preparing for Africa, but also the World Help Bloggers community. (If you are a blogger, click here to learn more about becoming a World Help blogger.)

I’ve loved every minute of it.

But during those difficult two months I didn’t blog, I didn’t want to. That’s the irony of it all. I help lead in the World Help bloggers community, and I stopped blogging. I’m going to Africa on a blogging trip, and I stopped blogging. I’d begin writing and not finish. Or, I’d finish and not publish, because I didn’t think I had anything worth sharing.

At some point, I realized each of the other bloggers going to Africa have authored and published one or more books, and I’ve authored and published…none. I began to believe World Help made the wrong choice. “How could they want me to go on a bloggers trip? There are far better choices.” The voices that criticized boomed louder. I began to believe them, highlighting my shortcomings and lack of achievements as proof, nearly succumbing to the temptation to…disappear.

I didn’t understand this while I was going through it. I certainly didn’t have words to describe it to you. The resistance I felt to write at the time seemed impenetrable, and the fear of failure, insurmountable.

It wasn’t until a couple of days ago, I came across a blog post called, “The Impostor Syndrome” by Donald McAllister, that I began to gain a little insight about all this.

Don began with the question, “Are you a high achiever?”

Yes, actually.

He continued, “If so, then on some level you’ll likely face this thing called the Impostor Syndrome. It’s that feeling that you’re in over your head and soon will be found out for the phony that you feel you are…It often occurs because you don’t feel like you’re the most perfect person for the job. Those with perfectionist tendencies are prone to experience this syndrome with more intensity.”

I do struggle with perfectionism and a performance mentality. When my doing, even doing good, is driven by a desire to perform in order to gain approval by God and others, and I, inevitably, don’t perform flawlessly, I’m displeased with myself, and believe if I’m not pleased, surely God or anyone else isn’t either.

It’s a jaded perception, but it triggered an episode of depression, though short-lived, and heavy anxiety to the point of feeling panic stricken. What ultimately follows such episodes is a strong temptation to want to run away and hide forever, or in this case, stop blogging altogether. Had it not been for the commitment I made to the people at World Help that I now consider my friends, I might have.

But more so, it was a Heavenly Father who would never give up on me, or kick a daughter while she’s down, but rather reached out a hand to lift her up. He sought me and wooed me out from my hiding place. He reminded me His love for me is never contingent on what I do or don’t. And His mercies endure forever, infinitely beyond the point I think they’ve run out.

He called those lies, lies, and it’s the truth that sets us free. It’s not that we are adequate in ourselves to consider anything as coming from ourselves, but our adequacy is from God, and there is freedom in that.

Moving forward, I’m blogging, and there’s a new fire in me.

And I’m Africa bound. Let’s build some rescue homes so we can see more babies rescued!