My 5 minutes on "Write"
I remember being asked non-chalantly by a friend years ago if I was a writer. She was. She penned songs that ached beauty. I shook my head when she asked because compared to her lines strummed out I wasn't.
I scrawled lines in a leather bound book that I would shudder to read to anyone.
I hid journal after journal in nightstands and under mattresses and between books on a shelf, but I never wanted them exposed to the light of day.
All the fear of what people would think was closed up between those pages. The honest words penned late at night or in the wee smalls of the morning. I remembered being told in high school that the words that I strung together were beauty, but somehow the girl with the graceful words didn't connect with the woman with the graceless life until years later.
Finding the writer inside of me has been a grace filling experience.
It has been a journey toward who God made me to be. I'm staring down the barrel at thirty and I feel more like me than any other version of myself ever. I am a wife. I am a mama. I am a writer. I am a grace lover because of the way that God has poured life into me by the Word and through words.
I have no idea where these words flung far will land, but I know that they are my words to write and give.
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