Since beginning my 365 day challenge and challenging myself to not only post a photo a day, but to also to write a blog post for the photos that hold more meaning in my heart, I have come to find that I have fallen completely head over heels in love with blogging.
I have always been a girl of few words. In my mind, at least.
I could never find ways to interpret the thoughts roaming through my head.
So most of the time I just kept quiet.
I had a secret though. Not many people knew. Only those closest to me. Those who cared to know.
On those lonely days when my mouth just couldn’t find the words to explain what was happening in my heart, I would go to my room and write. I didn’t have a specific diary, no special journal. I would just grab the first piece of paper I could find and let the pen in my hand do the talking that I couldn’t do on my own. Then, out of fear of someone reading my most personal thoughts, I would rip it up and throw it away. Out of sight, out of mind. It was sorta my way of surviving.
I never really thought anything of it, until one day I realized that it was in those quiet moments in my room with those random pieces of scratch paper that I had survived some of the hardest days of my life. Words had become my closest companions. My rescuers when I was drowning.
I am not a profound writer. I don’t make hearts leap when they read my words. I don’t change lives or hearts or minds. I know that. And I’m okay with it.
But I hope in some way that my simple-minded words can impact someone out there somehow. I hope someone is encouraged by them, and that they too find solace in writing out the thoughts that their mouths cannot speak. I hope that their burdens feel lighter, knowing they are not alone. I hope they learn that vulnerability is beautiful. I pray that they read my words and feel a light go on in their hearts. I hope they wish to fall deeply in love with this Jesus guy that I talk so much about.
I have so much more I want to say. So many thoughts that are fighting to get out. But I have them stored away in a special place and I will bring them out when they’re ready to be written.
My story is being slowly typed. I am a mess of strewn together words. Little moments and stories who hold hands and make me who I am. I am just like you. Fighting to find ways to make sense of this thing we call life.
To those who read my blogs, thank you so much. You have no idea how much it means to me.
All things for Jesus.