I was driving down the freeway last week and my phone rang. I don’t know about y’all but usually when my phone rings I silence it and text the person back to see what they needed or wanted to talk about. I’m not really a phone person, while I have gotten much better over the years, and I do have my select circle that I can talk to for hours now, outside of that circle, everything in my body literally freezes or sweats when my phone rings.
And honestly that isn’t usually because I don’t want to talk to the person, it’s usually because when I answer the phone it goes something like this.
I’m hungry, thirsty, have to pee, he wont turn the ceiling fan on…the refrigerator is making a strange noise, there’s a fly that’s by my left foot, my shorts wont button, he hit, she blinked, he breathed, or he WONT STOP LOOKING AT ME!
You know…life seriously implodes for a mama the second you answer the phone.
Like it’s an unwritten law that kids just know has to be upheld the second that mom presses that little green button.
But, this day was different.
I was driving home from dropping three of the four kids off and number four was actually able to stay home with Dad, so my car was almost scary silent. Because of this crazy and almost scary silence the sound of someone’s voice at that particular moment in time seemed comforting. Besides, I didn’t know the number, and it was local. So I figured that meant one of two things. There was a bill that needed to be paid or a doctor wanted us to schedule an appointment. Both easy and pain free conversations, well sort of?!
I answered the phone and to my surprise it was someone asking about this space.
Yeah, it seems as though they used some serious elbow grease and Thieves cleaner and scrubbed off the insane amount of dust and cobwebs that covered this place. They didn’t just ask about this space casually this person went to great lengths and began asking what my plans were for it.
I hadn’t even thought about this place in months. I mean I posted a couple months back about how I was going to do better and be here and present more often, but we all know what happened after that, more dust, and more cobwebs. It seemed strange that someone would even care to know anything about this place, let alone my plans for it. But, the even crazier thing is, that after that phone call this space has been brought up more times than I can even count.
Blogging was an outlet for me.
It was a place where I could share God’s promptings and my journey and my thoughts out in the real world for all to see, or all not to, but that wasn’t really the point. The point was, when my fingers were tapping away at the keys I got a lot out. I worked through a lot that was going on inside of me and I saw God show up in a completely different way.
And that was good.
I loved it. And I felt as though it was something I was supposed to do, and something God wanted me to do. But as per usual, whenever something good happens to you attacks happen simultaneously. For the first time in my adult life in this place, I let comparison steal that joy. I saw this place and I compared it to others, and I told myself the lie that my time was better spent doing something else. Something more productive and benefiting to those around me.
But the thing is, I started this place for the very reasons I shared above. To let God work through me and my words and not really caring who read it and when. In fact whenever I would talk to someone and they would mention this blog and how this post or that post hit home with them I was shocked. I honestly didn’t think anyone read it. I honestly just used it as an online journal and the second that I changed that and looked at it in a different light that was when the joy was gone.
So, when that phone rang, in my car, at the most convenient of times, a conversation with the most challenging of questions began, questions I had never even thought about before, which in turn encouraged me to go back to that place of writing for the love of it.
And so here I am.
I don’t know where this space is going.
I don’t have any big goals or dreams or aspirations.
But I do know that I love to write.
I love to see God work through my fingertips and write the most beautiful testimonies ever.
I love to share stories of my babies and husband in a place that they will never ever go away.
I love to write creatively or personally about the hard times and the good times.
I love to lose myself in my writing only to read it back and say wow God, you are good.
I love to encourage.
And I love to inspire.
So I guess the call led me to rediscover my calling….in the most strangest of ways.