How do I begin? What will it look like? Who will read this? What will they think? Is this even worth the effort? What if I fail? What do I say? What if they don’t like me? What if they get tired of me? What if I get tired of them?
I think this entire post could be written out in questions. Let’s face it. If you’re here reading right now, you are most likely my friend and you know I ask a lot of questions. So it’s true! I ask because I care. Really. I do. I love that people are different. I love that people are different than me. I love knowing where you come from and where you’re going. If you’re scared of heights or can’t wait for adventure. How many siblings tortured you or if you were the torturer. I love knowing what your parents mean to you, or if that part of your story is scarred. I love learning why you are you. I love that God made each of us unique. Different. On purpose.
So, maybe now you are the one asking questions. Maybe you are asking the same of me.
I am a Christ follower. I am a believer of God’s word. I am a lover of Jesus. I am a truth teller. I am a friend. I am a daughter, sister, cousin, niece, and aunt-each of those titles holding important people to me. I am a wife to my best friend and mother to my tribe of 5 boys. My family is the song I never knew I could sing. I have loved and I have lost. I love my babies so much it hurts. I love to be home and I love to travel. I love to shop but have everything I need. I love fashion and trends and trying new things. I love upscaling and all things vintage. I love turning something old into something new. I love that my home is an open door. I love to gather at the table, especially with good food. I love when my husband cooks. I love competition and playing fair. I have a lot of grace to give because of the grace I have been given.
I love a lot.
So where do I start? How about beginning in the middle? God has been writing my story long before this chapter of my life. One chapter after another, leading me to where I am today. I have crazy friends who encourage me to do crazy things. Like writing. I’m not a writer. But somewhere along the way, as my journey took some unexpected turns (I can name this time specifically in 2010-but will save that story for a later time), God began to pour words into my soul. The only way to express the ache in my heart was exposing it through writing. The reality of my pain, covered in God’s love. I have learned through the years, that many others are on this same journey. Living life with heartache or loss and learning a new normal. A normal that embraces heartache and joy simultaneously, laughter and tears daily.
And so we begin, in the middle.