“In the beginning was the Word…”

John 1:1

As far back as I can remember, I have loved words.  Reading, writing, and language have always been my “thing.”  From sounding out my first words in Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel to dissecting Dante’s Inferno to reading The Penderwicks with my own children; from writing abundant stories as a child to countless essays as a high school and college student to personal essays as a mother;  from coining my own childhood words to studying foreign languages to soaking in the written masterpieces that speak to my soul;  in every age and stage of my life, I thrive on words. 

I firmly believe that we all come to this earth with unique gifts.  One of the few I can stoutly claim is an inherent affinity to the written word.  I simply love to read good stories,  am driven to persist in digging into the words I don’t understand, and am always seeking to somehow put into words the thoughts and feelings of my heart.

However, I have always been a very private person, and as such I have always hesitated to share my own words with others.  Seldom have I shared my writing with any  beyond my closest family and friends.  I have especially avoided sharing my writing on the internet… where apathy or, worse, biting words, are oh so rampant. 

In spite of overwhelming intimidation at the thought of sharing my writing, a few years ago my heart turned a corner.

It was an ordinary afternoon, and with a little pocket of down time I began scrolling through my social media feed.  I am by nature a peacemaker, a people-pleaser, and absolutely as non-confrontational as they come.  But on this day, I read something that upset me so deeply that I simply could not remain silent.  I tried to ignore it and move on, but I could not focus on anything else.  I had to sit down and speak up; to write a response, enter a conversation, post it where anyone and everyone could read it, disagree publicly.  There would be no peace for me until I had spoken the truth in my heart.  So I breathed through my racing heart and I did it.  I spent an hour or more wrestling with the words that would not leave me alone, and I put them out there. 

And when I was done?  I felt overwhelming relief.  I had released the pack of wild words beating their wings and pounding inside my ribcage.  I had articulated, to the best of my limited ability, what I felt compelled to say.  As those words burst out of me and soared away to a public place where I could no longer control or contain them, I felt elated–free–high.  It had been worth the risk.   I don’t know if I changed anyone else’s mind or life that day, but I changed mine.  A seed was planted in my heart.  A tiny seed of belief,  infinitely smaller than a mustard seed, that maybe God purposefully gave me words because He wanted me to share them; a voice because He wanted me to use it.   

After all, God  has freely poured out upon me such wonder, joy, and insight through feasting on the thoughts, feelings, and words of others.  Perhaps it was not too much for Him to ask me to attempt to return the favor, to pay it forward to someone else whose heart might be craving a spoonful of creativity, a slice of introspection, a gulp of laughter, a mere crumb of peace. 

For a solid six months following the social media incident, I watered that seed of belief with my  tears every single time I heard Sara Bareilles’ song “Brave” come on. 

Everybody’s been there, everybody’s been stared down
By the enemy
Fallen for the fear and done some disappearing
Bow down to the mighty
Don’t run, stop holding your tongue
Maybe there’s a way out of the cage where you live
Maybe one of these days you can let the light in
Show me how big your brave is

Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave

I had felt it.  Felt the fear of freeing my tongue, felt the light come streaming in when I faced it.  And so it began…the long loosening of the lumps in my throat, rubbing the warmth into my frozen fingers, digging deep to find the courage to carve out my own tiny little corner of the Internet, where I could be brave enough to place my words. 

Here it is. 

Welcome!

Thank you for stopping by. 

I can’t promise that what you read here will amaze or astonish you.  I can promise that what you find here is genuine.  Each post is a page of my story, a pebble quarried from my soul–hewn, polished to the best of my ability, and offered here on the sometimes-terrifying altar of the internet. 

I’m not sure exactly what mosaic all these posts will form in the end.  Therein lies the mystery of creation.  I’m hoping I’ll figure it out as I go, and I’m trusting that by sharing my words with you something better will come of it than keeping them hoarded to myself.  Although I am not certain of the intended destination,  I am beginning the journey.  I appreciate you walking with me, if only for a brief interlude. I hope that what I share will somehow make your day a little bit better.

After all, there is probably something you need today.  Maybe I have it to give??

In that spirit, I offer you whatever it is I have.  A thought, an insight, a story, a post…no matter what you call it, it all begins the same way–with one brave word.