This week, I’m reflecting on my Christmas season, and all the wonderful things I learned by being intentionally present in the moment, whatever that moment might be.
Read Reflection 1 {Showing My Children Jesus} here.
Read Reflection 2 {Stress} here.
Reflection 3 {Words}
I’ve always expressed myself best in writing. When I have something to say that is dear to my heart, possibly controversial or confrontational, or just plain difficult to say, it’s much easier for me to write it out in a letter than to say it verbally. I can choose my words carefully. I can edit my sentences. I can review to make sure that I’ve said everything that needs to be said. I can let the words mellow for a few days before sending them out, which helps me ensure I’m not spreading poison with my pen.
This is why I chose to start blogging. To share my thoughts with family and friends in a way that uplifts. To help keep the extended family updated on my life. To not say during a phone call, “Fine, fine, everything’s fine,” when in reality I could barely get out of bed because I was so miserably depressed or I was majorly stressed out or things were not going well with one of the kids and I just didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I wanted to be real and writing has helped me to do that.
I never thought of myself as a writer, though, until this year. This year is the year that I really fell in love with writing. The year that the words flowed. Not just the words about my family life, but the words about my faith. About my beliefs. About the amazing things God has done. This year is the year it all came together.
So when I quit blogging for the month of December, I thought I would write anyway. I have a spiral notebook full of first drafts. I thought I’d spend time most days filling my notebook with the words I wasn’t going to type.
I didn’t.
I didn’t pick up a pen or open up a new document on the computer for the first two weeks of December. I did have a lot going on, but when things got quiet, I didn’t even want to write.
Week three of December came, and I started thinking. Why bother? I’m enjoying my life sans blog. I feel like a burden has been lifted. There’s no pressure to write anything, and frankly, that feels nice. Besides, who would miss what I have to say? The only ones who read regularly are my family and a good friend of mine. There are a few who subscribe to my blog. Would any of them notice if I never wrote again?
Then I felt guilty. My revelation that I am a writer was a huge event in my life. Why would God lead me through that experience if I’m to give up the one thing I’ve learned to love? Needless to say, I became quite conflicted. This internal dialogue continued. All. Day. Long. All. Week. Long.
All I could do was pray. I talked to God. I told him how I felt about writing. How I really was considering quitting the blog because my words were reaching so few people. How there are so many people out there who are so much more talented than I am. (As I write this, I realize that I sounded a lot like Jeremiah.) How I loved writing but maybe it was time to move on.
Then, as God does so frequently, he sent words to me that took my breath away. Three days in a row, three different blogs, one theme: my words matter. (I’d link to the blogs, but I can’t remember now which ones they were. Sorry.) I was in a state of shock and an emotional mess by the third day. As I read the words of encouragement from those ladies who are much more talented than me, God whispered in my ear, “If your words reach one person for my glory, you’ve done your job. If your words encourage one person to seek me, you’ve done your job. Don’t worry about the masses you could be reaching but aren’t. Focus on the few that you do reach.”
Focus on the few.
Wow.
So where do I go from here? Find out tomorrow!
