Goodbye, socials. Hello, Blog.

I’ve officially disconnected from the socials, y’all. It means that all the stuff I would normally write there, but I mean to write here and then share it on socials, will actually be written here.

Hopefully.

A while back, I became part of hope*writers because I wanted to find ways to grow as a writer, build an audience, and maybe build some confidence, too. One of the things I learned as a hope*writer was to put all the things on the blog first (because we actually have control and ownership of the blog) and then share to social media (because we have no control and our content can be removed at any time)(can we talk about how many photos I have on socials that I would hate to lose – has anyone figured out how to back all those bad boys up yet? Let a sista know…). So, now that I actually learned it, I think I’ll try to put it into practice. Better late than never, right?

The thing about sharing stuff on the socials, particularly Facebook for me, is that I know everyone, for the most part. So, sharing intimate pieces of my life wasn’t quite so weird. Here, in this space, literally anyone can stumble on it and that means I have to sort out how I want to show up in this space. It might take me a few tries. This isn’t the first time I’ve said it’ll take me a few tries to get this right, and it probably won’t be the last time either.

Let’s do this thing… whatever this thing is we’re doing. 😉

You are loved…

Sometimes we can look at our current circumstances, see absolutely no way out of them – but we cling to Him knowing that He is all we’ve got left. When everything else is gone, taken away, or stolen – He remains.

Lamentations, an often overlooked or less discussed book in the bible, is where my heart was drawn Saturday while driving home from my mommas. It was mentioned in a book I was listening to and it prompted me to go read it once I was home. While The Message is not my usual translation, it’s the one my kiddo is using this week, so it’s the one I’m using too.

In Lamentations 3 – Jeremiah openly shares his suffering. Jeremiah was a faithful servant who God called to prophetic ministry over 40 years and five kings of Judah. God spoke over Jeremiah from a young age and told him that from the time he was in his momma’s womb, God had a plan for him. This isn’t a history lesson on Jeremiah – I’m not nearly equipped to teach about prophets. I do feel equipped to teach about being a person called by God for a specific purpose, and who also suffers.

Lamentations 3 is broken up into three sections: God Locked Me Up in Deep Darkness, It’s a Good Thing to Hope for Help from God, and God Speaks Both Good Things and Hard Things into Being.

I’m positive that each one of us can look at a season in our life, and maybe that season is right now, when we’ve felt like we were locked in deep darkness. Maybe it was a season we wrestled with God about this thing, or that thing, or all the freakin things. Friends, count yourself among those most anointed! We all find ourselves in the place of deep darkness and a full on wrestle with God.

How many times have we felt as if we were being walked right into the darkness? That our cried out prayers were locked up in some space never to be heard, and surely to go unanswered? How often have we felt knocked down, dragged out before everyone to be mocked, judged, or ridiculed? How many times have we just wanted to give up all together?

Jeremiah says in verses 19-24, “I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness, the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed. I remember it all—oh, how well I remember— the feeling of hitting the bottom. But there’s one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope: God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up. They’re created new every morning. How great your faithfulness! I’m sticking with God (I say it over and over). He’s all I’ve got left.a533ab3c174c2cedaade21264460da01

Sometimes we can look at our current circumstances, see absolutely no way out of them – but we cling to Him knowing that He is all we’ve got left. When everything else is gone, taken away, or stolen – He remains. He waits. He asks us to enter into quietness with Him; relationship. He doesn’t want to skirt us around the mountains we face; He wants us to plow directly through it, knowing He is walking with us always. He is tender for us. He loves us. His justice will prevail over us. When we call out to Him, He does hear us!

Sweet friends, we can’t always see and we rarely understand the works of God. We don’t see at the million foot view that He sees things. I wish we didn’t have to face some of the things we face. But we do. We live in a broken, sin-filled world. There is a plot to take us down! The enemy doesn’t so much need to disprove to us who God is, he simply needs us to believe that his way is better. More enjoyable. Easier to swallow and fathom. Just generally easier to plot through life.

A holy life won’t be easy. It will be the hardest thing we do, but it comes with the sweetest reward. And, as followers of Christ, what we have here is just a blip of what’s to come. His promises might feel far off and they may seem out of reach… oh, man… do I ever know it! WHERE IS MY PROMISE, GOD?? I wish I could tell you… “Hey, friend – here’s your promise. I found it just around that corner.” I can’t. And I won’t try. But I will encourage you to keep.going.

Continue wrestling about things you don’t understand.
Continue asking for clarity.
Continue asking for the next step.
Continue seeking Him above all things.
Continue to wonder.

Also – continue to pray expectantly. To hope expectantly. To remain in a posture of surrender. To have faith that surpasses all understanding. To remind yourself that God is good and you are loved.

He is good. You are loved.

Being his momma…

A few months ago I joined a Facebook group for momma’s who have addict children. There are over 34,000 of us in that group. I previously wrote about how when I initially found the group, it was an odd comfort for this weary momma. Then it just became too hard.

  • Daily – mommas are reporting dead children.
  • Daily – mommas are telling about how their AD or AS had x amount of days sober and then relapsed.
  • Daily – kiddos are found in the street, unrecognizable, left to “hit rock bottom”.

There aren’t a lot of celebrations in that group. And it’s hard. I never intended to find a voice for myself among the other mommas to addicts or to people in my own life about how to love us well, but here I am – feeling the urge to help us all learn how to navigate this space together.

I’ll admit – it’s totally selfish. I’m 100% undone with life and, literally, can’t keep going this way. In the last few years, I’ve thought about ending my life more times than I care for anyone to really know. Not because I actually want to die, though. Because I have no desire to die. The madness that has become my life, though… I want *that* to stop. And I don’t know how to make that happen.

Before anyone freaks out or welfare checks me – I’m not going to hurt myself. I promise. I super-duper promise. I’m just hoping to help people understand the gravity of the issue some of these mommas are facing, and I know because I’m facing it too.

I’ve learned over the years to set aside the shame the enemy tried to use to label me. He’s labeled me in every way that wasn’t true, and I’ve shed every bit of it and have chosen instead to live transparently, authentically, and with brutal honesty about my struggles, successes, and areas in which work still needs to happen.

Except this area. Except this shame label. Except the one label that I’ve only shed in baby steps. Admitting that I’m the momma to an addict wasn’t hard, not really. Once he was public with it, then I was too… mostly. It’s still his story to tell, but I’m recognizing that I have a story in all of this, too. However, in my efforts as his momma to fiercely protect him, what people think about him, and manage how he’s perceived by anyone else, it’s caused me to become completely isolated. An island. All alone. And certainly it’s left me unable to share my own story.

Just how the enemy wants me.

Friends and family remind me that I disappoint them when I’m not willing to follow through on plans because I’m “dealing with things at home” or my inability to make plans for the future because I don’t know what my life will look like then or the unsolicited advice to do it this way, that way, or any other way than the way I’m doing it.

Tough love isn’t the way.

Compassionate care isn’t the way.

Rehabilitation isn’t the way.

Hitting rock bottom isn’t the way.

Jail, felonies, fines isn’t the way.

Losing family isn’t the way.

All of us mommas, struggling to help our kiddos, have overthought each and every way. Every scenario played out in full color and in full color in our minds, dreams, and hearts every day.

We know that we’re disappointing you by not doing it your way. We know that we’re failing in most areas of our life. We know that we need to do something, but finding that something isn’t easy. We simply don’t think the same way or even the same things that “normie” mommas think.

Last night, lying in bed, I thought about how I would react if my son’s girlfriend called me to tell me he’d been shot. How would I react? Cry? Scream? Run to him? Bury myself in work?

At least once a month, but usually more, I think about what would happen if I got home and found him dead – either self-inflicted or overdosed.

I have a speech prepared for his daughters, in case he dies and I need to tell them. I have one prepared for my mom too. And my dad. And my whole family and friend group. And for my boss.

These are only some of the thoughts that plague my mind and the mind of thousands of other mommas every day.

Each one of the kiddos who finds their way out of the pit of addiction finds it their own way, in their own time, and only when they’re complete ready to do it. There is no secret or magic formula.

Each one of the mommas who finds her way out of the cycle of addiction with her kiddo finds it her own way, in her own time, and when she’s completely ready to do it. There is no secret or magic formula.

We know that your intent isn’t to shame us or make us feel bad, not usually anyway… And if doing life with us is too hard, we get it. Really, we totally get it. Doing life with ourselves is hard.

But if you do choose to do life with us, thank you. We need you.

We need you to listen without judgement, to not be a sideline commentator, or just to love us right where we are at that moment.

We need your encouragement.

We need you to know that sometimes we will follow your advice, but sometimes we won’t.

We need you to know that we have very little peace in our hearts and minds.

We need you to know that our heads feel chaotic and swimmy.

We need you to know that sometimes we just need to focus on other stuff; work, projects, you.

We need you to know that we don’t usually want to talk about it, but if we need to talk about it, that we have safety with you.

We need you to know that whatever decisions we make have been made with so much thought, consideration, and every pro and con in-between listed out ahead of time.

We need you to know that we’re doing the very best we can.

We need to know you’re praying for us and lifting us up to God because most of us feel completely forgotten and left on our own.

We need to know that you’re consistently carrying our kiddos, their addictions, and their health to the feet of Jesus and that you’re on our team when we’re crying out to God to save our kiddo.

It’s a big ask. A lot to put on you. We know. Believe me, we know. It’s part of the reason we slink into the darkness. Loving us isn’t easy. We’ve become professionals at learning how to keep others at arm-length’s distance all the time. We know the complications of loving us. We struggle to love us, too.

Maybe this is a manifesto of sorts… a public statement about being an addict’s momma. A declaration, kinda.

This is us.

His lovingkindne… what?

The enemy will push and push and push. The only hope the enemy has is to completely shatter us. The single way he can fully consume us is to keep coming for us and hope that we forget to Whom we belong. So often, we’re just dangling on the edges, and it’s only for the mercy of Christ and the Holy Spirit inside of us that we’re able to take a step back into Him; our true Savior. 

This week, the EMS saved my kiddo. I know we can go round and round about whether or not the emergency services should be “wasted” on saving people with substance abuse issues, but I will forever be grateful.

I got the call that any momma to an addict dreads receiving. “Is this so & so’s mom?” “Yes. Who is this?” “The fire department. Your son is unresponsive. Are there any medical issues we need to know about?” “He’s an addict.” “What’s his normal consumption so we know how to treat it?” “Xanax.”

Just like that. He’s swept off to the hospital. I leave my job to sit with him. I will always leave to sit with him. Not every momma chooses the path I’ve chosen, but we all have to choose what’s right for us. That’s something I’ve learned in this journey. All our paths look a bit different, and oddly similar still.

We had three solid good weeks. That’s how it always goes. Three good weeks. A trigger for him. One or two bad days. Then all the shame, apologies, regret. Did I mention shame? So much shame. Three good weeks. One or two bad days. Wash, rinse, repeat. I can almost set my clock to it.

Why is this my life, God? I did what You asked. I broke generational curses. I came to You in faith over and over again. I chose obedience when it would be so easy not to. Every day I surrender to You. He’s chosen You, God. He works hard, provides for his kiddos, doesn’t steal, pays his bills. Why is this his life, God?

This disease is all-consuming and has been for the last 9 years of our life, in one way or another. I rage against the heavens for him. For me. God knows this prayer from me better than He knows any other. I don’t have to beg God to hear me, He already does, yet I feel unheard. Alone. And struggling to find a way to ask Him one more time to save my family.

And then, simple as a warm Texas breeze, His love comes over me in waves. Psalm 118 says that He is good, and He endures forever. In our darkness, we can call out to Him. In our darkness, He will answer us.

Friends, we all have various struggles, challenges, and obstacles in our families. Mine is not anything that can’t be overcome and yours isn’t either. Trust me, I know how you’re feeling when it feels like we’re at the end. Not one more moment. I’m almost ashamed of my prayers the other day because of my total undoneness.

The enemy will push and push and push. The only hope the enemy has is to completely shatter us. The single way he can fully consume us is to keep coming for us and hope that we forget to Whom we belong. So often, we’re just dangling on the edges, and it’s only for the mercy of Christ and the Holy Spirit inside of us that we’re able to take a step back into Him; our true Savior.

He is good. His lovingkindness endures forever. Keep going. Please, don’t give up. I don’t know why this is your life or mine. I do know that God is in it with us, though. I know that in every instance when I think I can’t go on for one more minute, I can call out to Him and immediately feel His strength rise up inside my spirit.

We will not die, but we will live and declare the works of the Lord through all of it. We will come to see His hand in places we weren’t fully able to see until we moved through this thing. Our perseverance is creating something in us that we will use to reach others for the sake of the Kingdom. Our persistence to keep going forward will be rewarded when we’re able to walk with another soul through a similar journey with all the things we’ve learned in ours. Please, don’t give up. We need you.

You’re so wildly loved. You are not unseen, even if you feel that way sometimes. You are being heard all the way in the throne room of heaven because Christ is right with you through all of the stuff and things and stuffy things. Press on, my friends. I’m right here with you.

Psalm 118
1 O give thanks to the Lord, for He is good;
For His lovingkindness endures forever.

5 Out of my distress I called on the Lord;
The Lord answered me and set me free.
6 The Lord is on my side; I will not fear.
What can [mere] man do to me?
7 The Lord is on my side, He is among those who help me;
Therefore I will look [in triumph] on those who hate me.

13 You [my enemy] pushed me violently so that I was falling,
But the Lord helped me.
14 The Lord is my strength and song,
And He has become my salvation.

17 I will not die, but live,
And declare the works and recount the illustrious acts of the Lord.
18 The Lord has disciplined me severely,
But He has not given me over to death.

21 I will give thanks to You, for You have heard and answered me;
And You have become my salvation [my Rescuer, my Savior].

28 You are my God, and I give thanks to You;
[You are] my God, I extol You.
29 O give thanks to the Lord, for He is good;
For His lovingkindness endures forever.

 

Keep Going…

The tension I feel between God and me sometimes is palpable. Then I fall into His theoretical lap, mostly ashamed of myself, and allow His love to wash over me. Again. And Again.

I’ve started and stopped this post so many times this week.

What did I want to share? Why did I want to share it? What is the goal or message of the post? Who should read it? I’ve been trying to sort out those questions, as well as formulate words that made sense. I don’t always do either of those things very well. 😉

I want to share about trauma and its aftermath. Unfortunately, my life isn’t short of trauma that I’ve needed to heal and process, but most of that was from my earlier years. For some of it, I was at fault(ish) because of the decisions I was making and the lifestyle I was living. My most recent trauma, though… not my fault.

Last year, on July 3rd, after an incredibly busy day at work – like my busiest one yet – I was finally home, the day before a holiday I already struggle to enjoy, taking a few minutes to relax with my cats on the sofa.

I heard someone come up the steps outside, but didn’t get up… see above sentence. Anyone that might be showing up had a key. No need for me to open the door, though, usually I would.

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

I drop to the floor, footsteps running away, cars speeding off, my phone ringing.

My neighbor. Frantic. What was that? Are you okay? What happened?

I don’t know.

I call my kiddo. Where are you? Someone just shot up my apartment.

He’s safe. I call 911.

I won’t revisit the whole event; I’ve already shared about it. But I will say that a year later, I still freak out when I hear someone/something outside my door. That’s probably going to happen for a long while.

On July 5th, we were homeless. Unable to stay there. Unable to stay anywhere. Believe it or not, apartments are hesitant to have renters who’ve had their apartment shot up. I found respite from a friend and slept on her futon for several months, while my kiddo was at a slimy, sleazy, disgusting motel with hookers and drug dealers and addicts. Exactly where he didn’t need to be.

In my previous post about all of this, I talked about being mad at God. And I was. And I got over it. And then I got mad again. And then I got over it. And the cycle just kept going.

The truth is that mad might not be the right emotion. The truth is that a year later when I try to name the emotion, I still can’t. The truth is that I’m still struggling to understand everything. A year later I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. It’s too complex to find a good word to explain it… trying to unwrap all of these emotions is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do, but I’m committed to doing it.

The tension I feel between God and me sometimes is palpable. Then I fall into His theoretical lap, mostly ashamed of myself, and allow His love to wash over me. Again. And Again.

Aftermath of trauma, whatever that is for each of us, is going to look different. In so many ways, I’m grateful to the point of spontaneous tears when I think about how I normally would’ve stood at the door and how He protected me. I’m also frustrated to the point of spontaneous tears that my life will never be normal again. It will regain the appearance of normal, mostly, as it has with other traumas, but it’ll never be quite the same. No matter what. And I think I’m a little bitter about it. Maybe a lot.

I’m frustrated that I can’t seem to find safety or comfort, even though I’m in a whole new physical place. When I left the other apartment, my only home in TX, I left most of my big things because I needed to go quickly. So I’m sitting on furniture that isn’t mine, and it isn’t comfortable. I have boxes still unpacked, unheard of for me, because I have this weird aversion to feeling settled now. I’ve thought of every reason to leave TX all together. I’ve kept most people at arm’s length for fear of getting too close and then having to leave suddenly.

This aftermath is not okay. I’m struggling to find my way through it. But I am committed to the process. Dear friends, I have no idea what your struggle is today or what you’re processing through, but I’m here to encourage you to keep working it. Keep facing it, day after day. Trying to numb it or run from it isn’t going to do anything but prolong the healing that needs to happen.

When you’re frustrated, call someone you trust. Seek care for your mental health. Find a workout plan that works for you. Most of all cling to God through the process. I know how it feels to be angry with Him. I know what it feels like to feel as if He’s let us go. I know what it feels like to lose all hope. Living for Him, we were never promised struggle free or pain free lives. We have sin and evil in this world of epic proportions. We can’t escape it. We’re not untouchable simply because we serve the Almighty. God doesn’t have to keep me physically safe to prove He loves me – He proved His love for me when His Son was beaten, hanged, and murdered on a cross for me.

John 16:33 (AMP) I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have [perfect] peace. In the world you have tribulation and distress and suffering, but be courageous [be confident, be undaunted, be filled with joy]; I have overcome the world.” [My conquest is accomplished, My victory abiding.]

Let’s make strides toward His perfect peace. Let’s be courageous and remember that He is always in control. Let’s walk with confidence and joy – each day claiming victory in and through Him. Let’s remind each other that sometimes it sucks and it’s really hard and also that He is always for us and He is always there. He never leaves our sides, and when we’re ready to climb back into His lap for His extravagant love to be poured out over us, He’s there – in the waiting space.

I’ve got a voice, now what?

I write from all the messy places with no real focus on any one thing.

One of the hardest parts about writing for me has been finding my audience. A friend recently told me that I have found one, and I agree… and also don’t.

I write from all the messy places with no real focus on any one thing. One of my ideas was to ask you guys what you want to read. Then I wondered if I was supposed to offer suggestions of what you might want and my list looked a little like this one:

  • Single momma stuff
  • Christian single woman stuff
  • Christian homeschooling working momma stuff
  • Momma to an addict stuff
  • Church hurts stuff
  • Surgeries gone all wrong stuff
  • I feed everyone stuff
  • I house everyone too stuff
  • Even stray cows would be safe with me stuff
  • I can’t find a date (let alone a husband) to save my life stuff
  • Abortion/Rape/Abuse survivor stuff
  • Chasing unicorns stuff
  • I’m a lil too hood for my own good stuff
  • Sometimes I cuss stuff

The reality is that I enjoy writing about all of these things. And I think you all have come to expect some of these really hard topics from me. The reality also is that means my readership might not grow. It might stay right where it is and we have to decide if we’re okay with that – like how I just roped you in on that one?! 😉

In the meantime, I have to do some things – like create an email list, launch a new website with a great lead magnet, and probably start adding some affiliates. This might take some time, but I’m ready to jump in with both of these tootsies and I hope you all are too!

I’m excited to head into this new journey, I’m grateful for the encouragement from my hope*writers group, and I’m ever grateful for each of you!

Share the song already…

None of us fully know what others are facing day to day or what’s happening in another person’s heart. Encouragement is never wasted.

Sometimes a friend will reach into your inbox to say words that affirm who we are and the path we’re walking. She’ll share a song that reminds her of you.

She told me that hearing this song that talks about desiring deep, connecting relationships reminds her of me. It’s how she sees me. And it’s what she likes about me. She called me courageous…

… little did she know that I sobbed into my hands last night calling myself stupid. Little did she know that just last night I was doubting all the ways my heart has loved and cared for others; with its deep desires, its longing for something real to grab onto, and the need to skip over all the nonsense and jump right into the deep, dark end with another soul.

Stupid for loving hard, for being so vulnerable, and for allowing the opportunity to be broken happen over and over again. Punishing myself for not learning lessons, for continuing to seek the things a person hides beneath, and to tear down walls to create healthier people even if it means pieces of me are lost in the process. Stupid for desiring the deep, connecting relationships that come with an overload of risk.

I asked a friend once why God would allow my heart to be so fragile that it stays in a continued place of brokenness – and this is why. Because God gave me the desire to love others so profoundly and with the sincerity to see the underbelly and not run away or be afraid. Because of these experiences, God uses my readiness to share words to bring hope to others. He’s created me so that in my willingness to be open and transparent, others can find their own opportunities to be brave. He’s made it so that other people can see something He’s placed inside of me and find their own ways to be vulnerable and courageous.

God will use each one of us to bring glory to the Kingdom. Our obedience to tread into the space He calls us is up to us. We get to make the decision to walk the walk He has for us, or not. Sometimes the enemy will have us questioning everything and everyone – doubting who we are and to Whom we belong. The enemy would rather have us imprisoning ourselves for the perceived weaknesses we have rather than stepping into those soft spaces of who we are created to be with bravery and courage.

Last night, the enemy tried his trickery… and it worked – a little bit. In true form, though, my Daddy God wasn’t going to let the voice of the enemy destroy His spirit in me and He directed His daughter to speak His words over me, to refresh my soul, and fill my tank. Obedience is critical when it comes to Kingdom work.

When you see something in someone, speak it out.

When you notice the bravery on that momma in the store, speak it out.

When you see that daddy doing his best at the park with his daughter, speak it out.

When you see your coworker accomplish something she didn’t think she could do, speak it out.

When you see that person you’re not even sure you like very much take a step in humility, speak it out.

When the Lord prompts you to speak into someone else, do it.

None of us fully know what others are facing day to day or what’s happening in another person’s heart. Encouragement is never wasted. Remind someone about how their gifting is making an impact in the Kingdom because the enemy is always on the prowl to take us down! Speak some meaningful truths to someone this week. Tell them the things you like about them and the things that you see God doing through them.

The song: https://youtu.be/1Wk8ZRgXQnY

When there is no muse…

If our desire is to go from doing what we love when the mood strikes to doing what we love all the time, then we need to find the drivers – the motivators – the encouragers – the desire – the chutzpah! Some of this will have to come from somewhere deep inside of us and some of it will come from people who surround us. 

One of the things that has always stirred me to some of the better things I’ve written has been a particular set of emotions or the need to process through something. When those things are present, writing is easy for me. It’s my muse. One of my favorite quotes from Lang Leav:

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So what do we write about when we’re not in the midst of a terrible place…?
So what do we write about when we don’t have anything in particular to process through…?
So how do we write when we’re not feeling our way through something major…?

This is where some clarity about the purpose of Unfolding Lovely meets the pavement. This is when my mission – Unfolding Lovely is a community created to encourage people with the love, mercy, and hope of Jesus Christ through our own stories – really has to come to life. And I’ll be honest, I don’t fully know what that looks like just yet.

The really great news about not knowing what it looks like for me is that I’m discovery there are so many of us, not just writers, but all types of creatives, who just don’t know what it looks like right now. Even when we think so&so has figured out all the ins and outs of their hobby turned job, chances are – no. They’re getting better at it every day, but none of us have fully arrived to perfection.

Wherever you are in your journey or your creative process or your calling or your purpose or your why – whatever name you’ve given that thing that gets you out of bed every day – you’re not alone. Find your people. Find those who will not only push you outside of your own comfort zones, but ones who will sit with you while you sort it out – no pushing necessary. Find the people who’ve already done “the thing” and, with an open mind, learn what they have to teach you. Find the people who want to see you be your best self and be successful – and who are also honest with you!

If our desire is to go from doing what we love when the mood strikes to doing what we love all the time, then we need to find the drivers – the motivators – the encouragers – the desire – the chutzpah! Some of this will have to come from somewhere deep inside of us and some of it will come from people who surround us.

If you like to cook, but have no one to cook for right now – cook anyway. Take a class.
If you like to paint, but can’t find any inspiration to paint – paint anyway. Teach a class.
If you like to write, but can’t find anything to write about – write anyway. Read a book.
If you like to sing, but can’t find a place to sing – sing anyway. Find a local choir.
If you like to work out, but don’t have a gym – workout anyway. Create an at-home routine for others.

Friends, we can’t stop doing what we’re called to do cuz we’re feeling unmotivated or unnecessary – we do it anyway. It’s going to be hard. It’s going to take everything we have inside us some days – we do it anyway.

Now go — get all your creative juices flowing! ❤

 

I did a thing…

I have been back and forth between calling myself a writer or a person who sometimes writes some things that people might read. 

I have been back and forth between calling myself a writer or a person who sometimes writes some things that people might read.

Several times I’ve left my blog for long periods of time. Sometimes because I wasn’t writing and sometimes because it was easier to write on Facebook or Instagram and just skip the blog all together.

I’ve decided this writing thing isn’t the thing for me at least a dozen times. I’ve prayed about it and have been met with silence or a green light and sometimes just more silence. I felt God giving me confirmation about writing a book in the spring of 2018, but then things just got seriously messy and the idea of the book went up on a high, high shelf.

I’ve felt like there are lots of really gifted writers with the perfect audience for them, and I just couldn’t figure out how to do the same or if I even wanted to have an audience.

I really had to sort out my goal. My mission.

So, to help, I did a thing. I became a hope*writer! I know! Why would I become a hope*writer if I didn’t know whether or not I even wanted to write anymore?! I don’t knoooow! ha.

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No, really. I spent a lot of time in prayer about this one and felt complete peace to move forward with the hope*writers team. If you don’t know who hope*writers are “we are a community of working writers dedicated to the success and creativity of each member. Working alone is for hobbyists. If you’re ready to stop dabbling and become a writer who writes words people want to read, join us.”

There’s a link over on the right side of the page with even more information about the community. They only open for new members a couple times every year, so I’m convinced that God lined their membership opening and my specific prayers about writing to happen at the same time for His purposes. He’s crafty that way. 😉

I don’t fully know what this looks like yet – whether I’ll be writing more here or on our Facebook page, but I’ll be working toward some specific goals and I’m excited to be able to share them with you!