live + write

Once upon a time {ahem: a month ago}, I had nothing to write about.

I would find myself with my iPad + keyboard in my lap, or sit down at the computer once Rowan was finally down for a nap, and just stare at the blinking cursor, waiting for the words to come.

Part of my problem was the barrel that rolled me over + left me unsure of who I was + where I was heading.

But there was also a big part of me that wanted so badly to write, but didn't want to write about the one thing I actually had going for me.

There were plenty of words written, waiting in drafted posts, but I couldn't bring myself to publish them. To say words that couldn't be taken back, letting everyone know who I am, where I stand, where my allegiance lies.


People who have been reading my words, following along wherever I happen to go, might not want to follow any longer.

But who am I writing for? Ten years ago today, I started my first blog. At that point, I certainly wasn't even hoping anyone would read those words. I wrote for myself: to sort out thoughts, to rant + rave, to speak words I couldn't say out loud. And this time? I found myself in the trap of caring about how many were clicking. Of keeping my words deep enough that people will want to read, but not too deep as to scare anyone away. Instead of writing for my heart, I'd begun posting to advance myself. To further my own pride. My heart only came out so far; the rest of it sat in the ever-growing draft pile.

So I stopped writing.

A week of stubbornness later, those drafts were sorted through. Some have been published already. Others will be read in the next few weeks. The people I wanted to impress? They just don't matter anymore. If 9 people come back to read again, that's my influence.

I'd given my God a part of my heart {mostly the part of that sits in a comfy chair with my bible + journal} but kept the rest to myself. My blog? Well that's not for God, right? What can He do there?

But God is jealous for me. Let me make it clear -- He's not jealous of me, he's jealous for me. He doesn't envy my stuff, my position, my influence -- He doesn't need all that. He wants me. All of me. Not the parts I want to give Him, not the bits and pieces left over when I've divided myself between my husband + my daughter + the internet. All of me.

So I have to make a choice.
+ it's not as hard as I made it out to be in the beginning.
In fact, it's quite simple.

I have no idea who I'm cutting from His Kingdom by filtering Him out.
It's not a burden, it's my honour + privilege to worship Him through my words.