Last year held such change for our family. As we closed chapters and creaked open new ones, one thing that has remained for me, is this calling to write.
Now, I’ve always written, but I preferred the words to remain safe, tucked inside my nightstand drawer. Four years ago I was not even thinking about releasing them on the World Wide Web to be read publically. So this act of obedience has been hard at times. I have this fear of being misunderstood. The thought that someone could read in-between the lines of what I write and misunderstand my message, scares me every time I hit publish.
It’s been three years since I wrote my first blog post and towards the latter part of last year I began to feel this rumble inside me of something more percolating. Blogging became more than just a way to process and straighten the jumbled up slinky life often throws at me. That is always why I write, but I felt it growing from a hobby into a calling, a ministry to encourage and help others also struggling to sort out this of life.