I think I finally understand why I started this blog. You’re probably thinking, well, duh. It’s your blog. Fair enough. But you know those times when, in retrospect, things just kinda fall into place? Yeah. This is one of those.
This blog is because of words. Words are crazy powerful. They’re like the h-bombs of human interaction, except these h-bombs can also bring infinite amounts of joy and epicness, like an h-bomb of rainbows. Note the also in that sentence. The destruction and brokenness is still there too.
The best part about words? I get to use them. I get to tell you, dear reader, all about what I’m learning in my life, whether that be normal stuff or the big ideas I find being laid on my heart. I get to encourage my friends and family, and as a result, watch really awesome things happen with them as they come to me with secrets and struggles and stories and everything in between. The things I say can change people. People’s lives. The world, even, by extension.
That’s exciting. Terrifying and humbling, too. But mostly exciting.
And that’s what the Lord has been showing me the past few months. There are way too many individual instances to cite and explain here, but lately I’ve watched as the pieces just started to fit together. The weight of the things I say, vocal and written and texted in shorthand and all the many other ways I communicate with people. I’m learning how I can turn those moments into encouraging ones. How I’m accountable for what I say, so make sure I say what I mean and mean what I say. Making sure that the things I said are said the right way, to the right people. Keeping what I say consistent across circles, even when it may be a tad uncomfortable.
I’ll be completely real here: this season of my life has not been the easiest for me. I haven’t liked it very much at all. It’s been icky. That’s not even a word, but that’s the only one I can think of. For a long time, I was in a state of denial where all I really wanted was out. It took me awhile to stop and remember, much less believe, that I was—am—where I was/am for a very specific reason. And maybe this isn’t even it. I might just keep growing and growing and this is but a mile marker. Who knows? But this has been huge for me.
Because I am here. And I have this blog where I tell strangers (or, people I know but I don’t know who you are, most of you) all about the deepest struggles and best great things happening in my admittedly pretty boring life.
Maybe, these words might mean something to you. I hate to toot my own horn, but I might inspire a change in you. And if I didn’t say this to you, then I’d miss the opportunity. I’m a part of your life now. Even if I barely affect it, or not at all, I’m part.
That’s another cool/scary thing about words: vulnerability is a pre-requisite. There won’t ever be a conversation where you don’t reveal something about yourself. Here, or in my real-life conversations, sometimes I’ll have to say not-easy stuff. I’m not perfect, and I can’t ever say anything to you if you think that I am.
As always, come talk to me. About this, about anything. Even though I publicly post very personal things, please know that you can trust me. And I’m more than willing to talk about literally anything.
In conclusion, consider this this a manifesto of sorts. For me, at least. I’m going to be more intentional, more aware of how I use these words. I can do a lot with them.
On that note, this post is technically over. You can stop reading now if you like. Here’s the bonus section: I like talking to people. I love hearing people’s stories. That’s why the thoughts herein are so special to me. They are so incredibly real in my life. And to that effect, it’s written, like my last post, to real people with real stories. Everyone else, too, but these people are the ones that have been laid on my heart recently. So to those of you who know this is for you (and even if you don’t): I love you. I believe in you, am thankful for you, and am praying for you. You’re beyond special and I love that I can be on this journey with you. So thanks for trusting and letting me.
Okay, now I’m done. Wield your words well, my friends!