December 13, 2011

Why I write.

I've been in a bit of a blog funk lately.  You know, sometimes you have these seasons where you just want to write and write and write and your heart is overflowing with things to share.  Then there are other seasons that seem a bit dry.  Life seems to just be that way.  Full of seasons.  

So I sit and wait until something inspiring pops in my mind so I can write about something that will draw your attention or that you will think is clever or funny or interesting.  But, no such thing enters my mind.  So I continue to have a blank page.

But then it brings me back to why I write?  Why do I write?  Why do I have this little space on the internet, where I share my life and my thoughts with family and complete strangers?  I think sometimes I forget who I write for.

You see, no offense... but I don't write for you.  I write for me.


I write because writing is therapy for me.  For as long as I can remember (at least 3rd-4th grade and on) I have kept a journal.  I still do.  And ever since the internet was a big deal I have kept blogs.  LiveJournal, Xanga... they are still there actually and it is kind of funny for me to look back and read them.  But through these journals I've documented different seasons of life.  The heart-wrenching difficult ones, and the ones where I was just overflowing with gratitude for all I had been blessed with.  It's my therapy.  I write for me.

Right now, my hard-copy journal has become more of my prayer journal and notes on scripture I'm studying.  I reserve my spew of thoughts for this blog.  Mainly because when I get in the mood my hands can type faster than they can write.  And I want to document each special moment I have as a mother, a wife, a child of God. 

And I have a passion for sharing life.  I truly don't think life was meant to keep a secret.  Sharing is healing.  Sharing is encouraging.  I haven't held anything back.  I've shared on this blog the devastation of our miscarriage before Jude.  I've shared my struggles with finding my rhythm when I became a new mom.  And my fears after finding out we're going to have two amazing blessings oh so close in age.  I just know that when I was in those moments if devastation and fear, hearing other women's stories were healing for me.  They were encouraging.  I wasn't alone.  Other women had been through this, and survived.

So, I'll continue to write.  About whatever comes to my heart.  And if you read it, great.  If you don't, oh well.  If a post has one view or 250 views, I'll still write.  This blog is about sharing my life.  Not about making money or gaining followers.  I write for me.


For now, I'm just 11.5 weeks pregnant with a sweet 8.5 month old napping in his crib.  That's what I'm thankful for.  I have a husband who is out working hard to provide for our little family and I am so very grateful that he values me staying home with our little one.  I'm starting to find a rhythm of spending time with the Lord again, and have made a resolution to read through the entire Bible regardless of how long it takes me.  I'm thankful for the many amazing friends the Lord has placed in our life.  I'm eager to spend the Holidays with family.  And I am thankful for the community that this little space on the internet has created so we can share life together. :-)


2 comments:

  1. Just saying...I love hearing what you have to say :)

    Out of all the blogs listed in my Google Reader (Young House Love, Rockstar Diaries, House of Smiths, The Daybook, Nat the Fat Rat...) yours is one of my favorites. You write about happy and sad and struggles and triumphs. Its real and its honest, and I think that's really rare in the "my life is perfect" blogging world.

    Keep on writing girl :)

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  2. I love your heart...you've allowed God to make it a beautiful place. And I love reading the things that flow out of it so freely. Being your mother is an amazing gift that blesses me over and over again. I love you so much, Linny.

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