I have always been a writer. When I was a kid, I wrote stories. In high school, stories turned into essays. I could ace any test that required me to explain myself with pen and paper, but true and false questions got the best of me every time.
I took up journaling in my teen years, recording my daily musings almost every night before I went to sleep. Mostly, those journals are filled with the details of my latest crush, which is hilarious to read now. I was slightly boy crazy, but that is another story for another day.
Those pages also give an abundance of insight into my character as I went through many HARD things. Much of high school was brutal for me, and my words paint a picture of my gradual evolution as I learned and grew and BECAME something more than I was.
I will always treasure those journals that tell the story of me.
For almost five years now, I have been writing here in this space, telling a different part of my story. As I look back through the archives, I see another gradual evolution. This time, I am an adult rather than a teenager. Now my words do not focus on my latest crush (since I married him 21 years ago), but on myself, my faith, and my journey as a woman and a mother.
Although I do not write all of my deepest thoughts here for the world to read, I hold relatively little back. I find it hard to do so because these words are who I am, and I want the picture to be whole. Real. Vulnerable.
I thought I knew who I was and where I was going at the beginning of this blogging journey. I believed I was confident and sure, and in some ways, I was. But somehow, writing has trained me to see things differently – to see myself in a new light. As I have sat down, week after week, struggling to make sense of a constant flood of jumbled thoughts, something unexpected and somewhat miraculous has happened.
I did not see it at first. I was blind during the times when I desperately wanted to throw in my writing towel. I believed I wasn’t cut out for this work because it required way too much of me for what felt like so little reward.
But God kept telling me to write, even when I was exhausted and overwhelmed. So I wrote.
And now, looking back over the words that illustrate the subtle change that has taken place in my heart over the past five years, I understand just a little bit better why I needed to write. Not only did it give me a creative outlet, but writing helped me to find myself.
As I took the mess of ideas in my head and made them into something worth reading, I learned who I am and where I stand. Even though I stand in a different place than so many others, my confidence in my position has grown. I have come to a place where I am alright saying what is in my heart, even if others (even those close to me in real life) don’t agree and criticize me.
As I have said countless prayers about this little blog of mine, I have learned how God feels about me and the message I am sharing. I cannot deny that His hand has been and continues to be in the details of my work here. If not for Him, I would have been out of this blogging business long ago.
I will always be a writer. It is in my blood, and I will continue to write here, though it might look a little different going forward. I feel like I need to adapt to the changing tide and explore other avenues of communication in addition to the written word.
I am currently working on some big things behind the scenes that are super exciting. I’m not ready to officially announce anything just yet, and I’m not sure exactly how things are going to play out. Change is in the air, but I think it will be for the best.
(This picture might give you a tiny clue…)
I hope you will stick around for the ride.