I often say I write for myself. Exploring all God is teaching me. Not always easy for growth is often painful. Even creative growth. Especially spiritual growth.
As a child I loved to read. Loved to write. My dreams were to be a writer. Along the way fear took over. Perfectionism and pressures of high school and college allowed voices of insecurity to cripple. Fear of failure paralyzed those dreams.
Life moved on. Marriage, a child. A wonderful life God continues to bless me with. But still a longing.
Two years ago I began art lessons. I began sponsoring a child through World Vision. Something started changing. Maybe those were the turning points. Perhaps that is where this part of my story began.
Awakening to find my own faith instead of a second hand faith of others.
Hesitancy replacing insecurity.
Finding worth in who He created me to be. Not in the expectations of others.
The dream of writing resurfacing. Freedom found in sharing pieces of what He is teaching me. Freedom in simply letting words pour out without rules or expectations of perfection.
Writing simply for me. Never dreaming others would find encouragement in my words. God bestowing grace as I write the words He gives.
I don’t want to look back one day to realize I had a story to tell. A story that remained hidden. A story God has given only me to write. So I share. Unsure of the direction He is leading but trusting.
Even through the fear……finding my voice.