I’ve gone from blogging primarily for the purpose of trying to grow my audience in order to write/publish a book, to writing out of a much deeper, more authentic place — and not knowing whether I’ll ever write a book.
From needing recognition, to writing much more for the sake of allowing the Lord to excavate my soul. To show me who I really am.
Natalie Goldberg says you can’t begin to stand up straight in your writing, and not also begin to stand up straight in the rest of your life. I’ve learned that this is profoundly true. And incredibly scary. And ultimately, deeply freeing.
Writing has changed me inside. It’s brought parts of my soul to life and light that I hadn’t realized were dormant and hiding. It’s firmed up my sense of knowing who I am and what I’m about. Whose approval I need, and whose I don’t. I am standing up straighter and more confidently these days, both in my writing and in other facets of my life, than I ever have before.
So why do I write here in this space instead of privately in a journal? Because I deeply value your heart and story. Because I appreciate the way my readers reflect back to me what they hear in my heart. Because I learn about myself as you share pieces of yourself with me here.
Because in the community of readers and fellow-writers that’s developed around these parts, every single heart is precious, and I long to see all of us, walking together, stepping bravely into wild freedom to be who we most deeply, truly are. Freedom to know the heart of God the way we were created to, and to let our hearts be wholly awakened and brought to life by that knowing.
Because I believe God’s heart is to draw us into real, practical intimacy with Him, on an everyday, tangible, sustainable level, and I pray that something in the way I share my journey here will provoke you to hunger for and search out that depth of friendship with Him along your own journey.
Because I believe there must be room in Christianity for the wrestling, for the unanswerable questions, for fully acknowledging the gut-wrenchingly painful, for pressing into His goodness and fiercely adoring Him while weeping on the floor of those seasons.
Because I want to invite you into loving Him with me in the midst of all that’s not neatly put together.
Because I love walking together with you here.
Thanks for your presence, friend. It’s a gift beyond words.