That turned out to be a lot harder than I thought.
If you’re just joining us you can catch up on #KarsonsStory here
As my cursor hovered over the publish button of that last post I cried, talked to myself and wrestled with God on my little back porch,
“Should I share this? Who is this one for? What about my kids? the ones I’ve taught? my own children? My family? What about my former employers or future employers? What about this? What if, that?
Back and forth until I almost threw up.
I wish I were kidding.
And then, I asked, “Why not share this part of the story? It’s true. It really happened. What’s at the root of this fear?”
Through the sobs I heard a whisper,
What will they think of me.
I’d be more embarrassed to share that truth with you if it weren’t true for all of us.
Once I said it out loud, I determined my little wrestling match with myself was null and void because ultimately,
“… the Lord sees not as man sees; for man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” I Sam: 16:7
So, where do we go from here?
This whole blog/ book writing thing and I go back and forth: to write or not to write, to share or not to share, more sad more happy some days to the point that I want to holler, “MAY-DAY, MAY-DAY, MAN DOWN!”
And then, there’s you.
You share your stories, poems, prayers and hearts.
You comment. You text or email and share how much one of the stories here has helped you, encouraged you, prompted you to turn back to Him and then, I remember why I started this whole thing.
The day, actually the moment, we lost out first baby, Samuel, God birthed a new thing in me.
When the doctors whispered, “We’re sorry, ” I experienced a peace I never had before.
Seriously, an eerie calm.
In that moment this passion, this burning desire to speak of God’s goodness, His faithfulness in the midst of gut wrenchingsorrow sparked the moment they took my son from me and it hasn’t stopped.
That day, I didn’t have a clue what God was up to (lots of days I still don’t), but I knew just enough about Him to know my pain would not be in vain.
The years I taught school I was given opportunities to speak life, love on and encourage friends and coworkers on a daily basis.
It was a great season. I needed them and some needed me.
It’s been almost three years now since God stirred a restlessness in my soul that prompted me to pray a BIG pray that ultimately lead me to resign from teaching, come home and home school my own children.
Some days I feel (and look like) I’ve been here a bazillion years (s-c-a-r-y-f-a-c-e) and barely know my name while other days feel as though I’ve just locked my classroom door and am on a long weekend break.
Still, the purpose of this white space stands.
Encouraging, exhorting and exciting others with REAL stories about REAL life
It was started as a fun place for me to record life. I’m forgetful.
And because I prefer typing verses note taking most days thus the blog that quickly went from notes about the latest happenings on the farm to more testimonial, devotional posts that lead to a ten chapter book proposal that I’ve been sitting on since July.
Until now.
I have two of the ten chapters drafted.
The last several blog posts have been snippets of Karson’s chapter.
Your response leaves me without words.
Which begs the question, where do we go from here?
As someone who wants to live a life with no regret and if I only get one shot at this I want this space to matter.
To make a lasting difference. To have inspired. Excited. Exhorted. Encouraged others with what has been said here.
So, we’re going to keep sharing snippets of the book as they are written…This may or may not be the only place they are ever published. Some fun and sunny others you may need a tisha or possibly a box of tisha (pronounced here in the south by many as TISH-UH)
We tell our boys, you’ve got to do at least one brave thing a day. This thing. This blog. This book. This story. Is my story.
My brave thing for today is this prayer: God use this. All of this. The messy and the good for your glory. Amen
love and appreciate y’all so very, very much
