The other night we were having a massive Naptime Diaries packing party and talking about writing. I was kind of strongly declaring that I don't write to write. I write to affect change. I was saying that good writing isn't really what keeps me up at night, but just shifting hearts and having my own shifted. I also spoke at a blogging conference a few weeks ago and for a few minutes, I felt like a fraud. I'm an internetter through and through, but not so many of my words end up on this blog. They end up on instagram or written in my journal. For the past few months, they've been poured into Word documents as I gear up for traditional publishing. But I haven't been a great blogger per say.
The morning after that conversation I told the gals that my words didn't sit so well with me. First of all, when I replayed it in my head - I felt like I sounded wise in my own eyes. And I felt like I sounded like I owned all my words. I write for Jesus. My words are His. If he wants me alone to read them, no one to read them, if He wants them on instagram or in books or on blogs - that's His business, not mine. But I love words and I'm grateful that He helps me string them together. And I feel more alive when I do it. It feels safe and healthy and it almost feels like a day spent not writing feels slightly wasted in some way. So maybe I'll blog some more?
When I was at the very end of my pregnancy with Cannon, I felt like I could barely survive. I was in constant, constant pain. The only thing that helped me make it through the day was 2 or 3 scalding hot showers. As the water poured over my massive belly, I'd stop itching and writhing and aching - just for a minute. I honestly can't remember a season where I gave myself more grace. I'd been down that road three other times and I knew that my one and only goal was to survive and get that baby out healthy. The kids and I stayed home for about two weeks on end. I didn't necessarily get ahead or even nest. I just survived and that felt like thriving and that grace washed over me, healing me like those scalding showers.
In the hours after Cannon was born, I had this hilarious sensation. I wanted to google EVERYTHING. I wanted to google about essential oils. I wanted to google about homeschooling. I wanted to google hairstyles and DIY projects and how to apply winged eyeliner. I wanted to google important things - theological issues and such, but I wanted to google silly things too. Mostly - I felt ALIVE and ready to learn, to soak up the world again and stop simply surviving.
This fall has been like those months to some degree. At the end of the summer, we saw it coming. So much traveling, our business really starting to pick up steam, and the church going from meeting monthly to meeting every single week. On top of that - our kids needed our full attention, I've been working on said publishing ventures, and speaking a lot. I knew I just needed to get through and let a lot of things fall to the wayside. Outside of family, business, and church - a lot has fallen to the wayside. I haven't organized a ton, tried new recipes, spent a lot of time nurturing long distance relationships, or watched much TV at all. But I felt that familiar grace - God brought this season and He'd bring us through it. And He'd bring back sensitivity to the rest of the world when it was time.
And it hit this weekend. I wanted to google everything. And I did. And it was great.
For the past few years, I've felt like December was the "Saturday of the year". My perfect Saturday looks like this: I wake up early early and spend some passionate time with the Lord. Then I organize the next week and make all the lists I need to. Once the kids wake up, I take my time sipping coffee and cuddling and making a real breakfast with them. Then maybe we do a little cleaning or organizing around the house, and go on a family trip to the Aquarium or the beach or a store. During their rest time, I work a little - only on really life giving things - writing or painting or casting some vision over an important area. Late in the afternoon I go on a long run and come home to make a messy dinner for the kids, then eat something scrumptious with Nick once they're in bed. A little resting with him, a shower, and it's off to bed early to rest up for Sunday.
December makes me feel alive again. Like the whole year of pushing and planning and working was worth it to get to this. To celebrate what we've been given and to dream about what's to come. I'm so glad December is here.
I'm ready to blog some more. I'm grateful for words.
I feel alive and I'm googling my heart out.
December is here, and I'm going to soak it up.