Why do I write?
I've spent the last couple of days mulling that over, twisting my hair and muttering to myself. A disturbing sight, I assure you.
It seemed so simple when I first started this blog a couple of years ago. You post something, people read. Easy peasy, lemon-squeezy.
But what if it isn't that easy? What if people don't start coming in droves or the inevitable burn-out hits you like a Peterbilt truck?
Why do I do it?
I thought about this and prayed. Thought and prayed. Prayed and thought.
The cry of my heart is to always, always honor my Jesus. With every word, every photo, every light-hearted moment, I pray that I bring glory to His Name. It might not be much, but whatever it is, it's dedicated all to Him.
I write for Him. For me. For you.
Here's why I write:
- I have a voice, as do you. It's a beautiful thing that we've been given. My voice is different than yours. That's good. No, better than merely good. It's how God's made us, making it beyond special. For so long, I tried to make my voice be like someone else's. Guess what? It doesn't work. I love Oscar Wilde's quote, "Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken." Now I'm embracing this voice and trying to learn to let it shine for Him. This blog is my voice.
- I have a story. Again, so do you. Even the good girls who grew up in Sunday School with no memory of never having Jesus in their heart have stories, too. This blog is the voice my story.
- Christian women need to see honesty and transparency. I love looking at lovely blogs of women who appear to have it all together, but most of the time, rather than being inspired, I despair. This blog is a place where I share real life with you, mess ups and all. I seriously wish I could say that my children are all trained just so, that my house is on a clock-like cleaning routine and that family worship happens here every night. But it doesn't. Yesterday, my three year old came out of a public bathroom stall with just his birthday suit on from the waist down, much to the shrieks from his other three year old PE classmates. My kitchen floor hasn't been mopped in three weeks. (Okay, okay, four.) Family worship tonight consisted of a quick singing of Jesus Loves Me before we shoved five kids into their beds and ran downstairs. This is real life, people. My life. I want to encourage you that you're most definitely not alone.
- I dearly love writing. I remember writing a family newspaper when I was eight. I gave away three copies to family members. I was hooked. There's just something about getting exactly what's in your heart onto the computer screen. I'm surely not a professional, but I hope I can bless you here.
So here is One Blessed Lady's promise to you, my dear readers...
This is a place for you all to come and find rest and encouragement, honesty and fun. I promise to try to help you remember the preciousness and joy in each and every day. Hopefully you'll laugh (at me, with me, who knows?), not mind being bombarded by pictures of the world's five cutest kids ever, and leave with the confidence that I'm praying for you.
To God alone be the glory.