I don't consider myself a blogger. I know, I know. That's an odd thing to read at the beginning of a blog, but I don't. When I was in college I struggled with writing and my love to write creatively slowly diminished with every red 'C' I saw at the top corner of a paper. Little did I know, I'd eventually end up a fourth grade teacher teaching 9 year olds about the formation of our country, the water cycle, division, reading strategies, and you guessed it. .. how to write.
As a child myself, I wrote poems, songs, and had 50 million notebooks and diaries. If you ask The Hubster, he'll tell you that my love of notebooks has yet to cease. They are everywhere. I still own journals from my youth and occasionally read the entries. Sometimes I laugh, sometimes I cry, and sometimes I wonder why The Hubster chose me in the first place. This ten year old had issues.
The main purpose of my starting a blog was to record memories and capture moments. It has grown into a place for me to set goals and have accountability. I occasionally share some dreams or deep feelings and I find those moments to be the hardest.
Fear is real, people. Hitting the publish button can be very scary. Letting people in and opening yourself up is downright frightening. I've always admired writers who share the deepest parts of their hearts and remind us readers that they too are human. When a person invites you in and shares their dream, their heart's desires, it takes a fistful of courage.
If I've learned anything this past season of my life it is that truly being yourself takes courage.
Being you means being brave.
The world tells me that I have to be an organized, energetic, crafty, stretch-mark-less, turkey roasting, organic eating, play-date having momma. The voices whisper, "You're not good enough", "You're late. . . again", "You can't cook", "It's been nearly two years and that belly is still a-floppin'".
In the midst of this darkness, I hear His voice, because of course love is always louder and the light always wins. He reminds me that he knit me together in my mother's womb. (Psalm 139:13) He knows my thoughts, my heart, my desires, and my inner most being. He made me perfectly.
I came across the 31 Day Writing Challenge hosted by The Nester (Myquillyn) and was intrigued. A challenge to write every day for the entire month of October about one topic? Talk about being brave. This girl who is in grad school and dreads every time a paper is due (which is nearly every week by the way. God has a sense of humor.), was clearly not going to sign up. But she did.
I contemplated the entire day about what I was going to write about. Fashion? Absolutely to the not. Cooking? That would be the 31 Second Writing Challenge. Balance? Far from it. So, I went to a friend and Frances had the best advice. She told me to think of MY life and the season that I'M in. Let's be honest, there's nothing wrong with being an organized, energetic, crafty, stretch-mark-less, turkey roasting, organic eating, play-date having momma. What's wrong is when I feel that I have to be. . . all of the time. When they said that comparison was the thief of joy, they weren't kidding.
For the next month I want to push myself to relieve my heart and mind of all comparison and fears. I want to walk boldly with my head held high as a daughter of the King should. I want to embrace my quirks, listen to my heart, and live this life boldly. I want to be me. No regrets. Just me.
This may mean wearing red lipstick just because I want to and not caring what the world thinks. This may mean ignoring the whispers of my past perception of marriage and loving my husband with intention. This may mean trying a new vegetable. This may mean baking a cake even after many failed attempts. This may mean fighting the voice that says I'm lazy, waking up an hour early, and being in His presence.
Join me for the next few weeks as I step out boldly and venture to discover who I am, what I love, and what it means to be brave.
Jeanell
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