Diving in

This is dumb. I’m not a writer. I’m not a blogger.

A funny thing happened to me a couple months back. Due to a long line of mis-communications, we missed church.

{You may be aware that orchestrating the dressing/feeding/shoe-ing/buckling/stuffed animal limit managing of two bitties and one husband on a Sunday morning is no small task. In some countries it may be a medal event.}

But we missed it. And there was no changing the mis-communications. So I was sour about it for approximately 4 minutes before I decided to make the most of the pretty weather and take my girls up to my old university. The hubs decided to ditch his painting project and join us, and I must say, it was the most delightful day.

It was just like the Lord to give me church somewhere I wasn’t expecting it.

We ate goldfish and bananas on the quad, sunning ourselves like lizards desperate for the first warm rays of spring. We walked around collecting leaves and “haycorns” {seriously, I can’t bring myself to correct her…} We enjoyed being together—being a family.

And I: I remembered who I was. {Am?} I breathed deep and felt the old flutter of that fearless girl—the one who thought a sorority might decide her friends and that study abroad wouldn’t really be an adventure unless she went entirely by herself.

 

A husband, two kids, suburbia, and stay-at-home mom later, my adventures look a little different. But this is going to be one. And it makes me nervous and jumpy, self-conscious and self-doubting in all the ways the old ones used to. And that makes me hanker to give it a try, keep pressing on…trust in the Lord.

I’ve been kicking the tires on this whole blog idea for a while now.

Why not just keep a journal?

A couple weeks ago I met a {hopefully} new friend at church. She is going through the bible study a few friends and I wrote for our new mom’s ministry. When I asked her what she thought of it she responded “I thought I was the only one.” Nope. Hells no.

So I take my own response, and turn it around on myself, and here’s what I know to be true: I can’t possibly be the only one. God wants to use believers {even me} to bring about redemption in this world. I am his beloved daughter, formed exactly as he saw fit. He gave me my gifts/personality/quirks/annoying attributes as a means of glorifying him.

So: This is fun. I like to write. Maybe I’ll like to blog?

I can’t wait to find out.