For example, I've had my browser window open for two days trying to think of what to write, which direction to go.
This happens way too often, and I'm well aware.
So, tonight, I sat on my couch and let tears press themselves out of my closed lids, and I prayed.
I prayed because my heart is that Jesus would show up here in these words, on this blog.
I want to write for and to you, whomever you may be, and I want you to find rest and healing and maybe laughter and maybe a tear.
But I get stuck in the mud up to my rearview mirrors (if you're from the South, you know that's bad).
I can't move forward or backward or even open the door because I'm so unsure of what this blog should be.
Tonight, my fretful little heart was pouring out my concern to the God of the Universe.
And you know what He said?
Your blog identity should flow directly from your identity.
He could've added duh, but He knows I'm not too great with sarcasm, so it felt more like a hug.
So I thought about it, and I realized that I'm not always as honest as I could be.
And I thought I'd introduce myself a little better than I've done before.
How, you ask?
I'm going to tell you some stuff and some stories about myself, starting pretty far back.
Aren't you excited?!?
I'm doing this because really, it's not my story.
It's His. His fingerprints are everywhere, His weaving hopefully apparent.
It's about to get for real.
I'm going to get some dirt underneath my fingernails and unearth some of how I got to right here:
The other day, I was reading Ann Voskamp's blog (and crying... Does this happen a lot, you ask? Possibly...). I copied and pasted this onto a sticky note on my MacBook, because I needed to remember:
So tell me your story, not your sermons, tell me your thrashing, and not just your theology. Tell me about your questions – and not just your quest.We start in the morning.