One, it's hard to write transparently when you are guarding things in your heart.
Two, I struggle with comparison. When I start to compare my writing, my thoughts, my heart here to other people and other places, death starts to seep into all creative sprouts. Comparison is deadly. And I'm fighting for the grace to get beyond it.
Three, I don't like posting before I've lived it. So there's a whole lot of living. Beautiful stories spilling out on my couch and in cars, from my heart to others, and their questions outloud to me. A whole lot of living that I don't know is ready for dissecting or poetic lyric.
Four, I'm trying to figure out the whys and ifs and shoulds of writing and blogging. Don't get me wrong, I love it. It's a part of me, has been a part of me for the past eight years or so. So I've sat down to make a schedule. A plan. A goal for this space. Things like... more posts from my kitchen, thrifted living, stories of parenting, of community, of grace.
Five, I am the first to discount and discredit everything I write. I feel unqualified and inadequate. I think most writers and thinkers and creative sorts feel this way. In fact, I'd go so far to say that most people feel this way in different avenues of their lives.
Six, blogging takes energy and time and investment. And these days? Well, sometimes I'm just tired.
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| (even my Mom has to hear it from me) |
Thanks for letting these fingers and heart write honestly. Vaguely, maybe. But honest, I promise.
And can you give me grace as I ebb and flow with this space?
Love.
