Monday, October 02, 2017

Fresh Starts and New Beginnings

Hey, so. If GoDaddy is going to keep billing me for this domain name, I should maybe use it, huh?

I don't really know what happened to this space. Well, I mean, I sort of do.

 

I spent nine months devoting most of my energy (mental, physical, emotional, spiritual) to carrying her in a 35-year-old body that does NOT do pregnancy well.

 

And then I've spent the last five months figuring out how to settle back into a season of life I've not seen in a long, long time.

 

My days are once again full of nursing and diapers, tummy time and babywearing, walks with a stroller and troubleshooting fussing and trying to catch a quick nap. Only this time around, they're also filled with listening to a beginning reader, signing math homework, driving to piano lessons and soccer practice. It's hard to find time or space to think my own thoughts, much less write them down. Especially when I'm desperately rusty, having all but forgotten how.


Today I have a babysitter. Three whole hours of a friend's homeschooled teenage daughter entertaining my baby so I can do whatever I want. Ha. Of course "whatever I want" looks like being paralyzed with anxiety about how best to use the three hours, knowing the time will fly by. It looks like fighting rejected insurance claims, calling orthodontists, attempting to summit Mount Laundry, and stressing about whether I'm going to end up paying the babysitter to be here while Miriam sleeps.



But, at least today, it also looks like sitting down to a blank screen and a blinking cursor and trying to remember how to do this writing thing. Let's be honest: this blog was dying a long, slow death for quite some time before Miss Miriam arrived on the scene. And yet, as a much-beloved writing professor reminded me years ago: "Thankfully, we are people of the resurrection!"

Just yesterday I came across this incredibly timely and encouraging post by Rebecca Reynolds at Thistle and Toad. She concludes:
...Now and then I can write an encouraging post for five people--or I can write a post for one person who is struggling.
I can wait to post until I have something important to say.
I can let the gospel apply small. I can let God be God and trust Him to place my labors in the context that is most useful to him.
I can live small then smaller still, encouraging my readers to do the same.  
I can do all this because the gift of writing doesn't offer an identity that springs into being with a publishing contract, or with a following in the 100’s of thousands. Writing well is simply a tool to utilize in the context of an identity that was secured long ago by the work of Jesus. We have nothing to earn; we have only to wake up each morning and say, "In every small step I take, Thy will be done."

So here's to fresh starts. Here's to tiny baby steps, the smallest of efforts in the right direction. Here's to awkwardness and imperfection and muscling through the anxiety to get something, anything, on the page. Hopefully I'll be back soon.

4 comments:

Kelly Ashlock said...

Love it.
Love you. ♡

Callie Daruk said...

Oh Amy, though sadly our paths haven't crossed much at all lately, I am so proud of you and thrilled you are writing again. Such a beautiful heartfelt post! I miss you!

kristin said...

Hooray for baby steps! I have always loved your words.

Danielle said...

I can't believe it's almost been a WHOLE year since your last post. I've missed you--that's not to induce guilt but to encourage your voice. ;)

That being said, you really encouraged me today with this quote:

"I can do all this because the gift of writing doesn't offer an identity that springs into being with a publishing contract, or with a following in the 100’s of thousands. Writing well is simply a tool to utilize in the context of an identity that was secured long ago by the work of Jesus. We have nothing to earn; we have only to wake up each morning and say, "In every small step I take, Thy will be done."

Small steps is my mantra this year. Faithfulness with the small amount of time I have. I have less than ever before to devote to writing although my dreams for books/blogs/podcasts, etc. still grow. But God has impressed on me that "a corn of wheat must go into the ground and die" to produce a harvest. This school year will be a energy-zapping one that will take a lot from me and it's a season I need to joyfully give myself to in order to help my kids with their newishly diagnosed learning disabilities. In all reality I've felt the same emotions as when I was told I needed to nurse them one-at-a-time every two hours and I spent weeks staring at a wall in mental fatigue. And yet it was a season. Thinking about seasons past and God's grace gives me the strength to soldier on. All that to say, that quote was just perfect for me.

Hugs to you!