Tag Archives: writer

What I Learned in September….

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I am linking up with Emily Freeman’s monthly link-up today. You can check out all the posts over at Emily’s Place.

Things I learned this month….

(1) I am a writer! After participating in the online discussion on the book “On Being a Writer” by Charity Singleton Craig and Ann Kroeker, I can honestly say that I am a writer. I have learned that writing is indeed so much a part of who I am. There are limitations, but those limitations often push my writing to be better.

(2) In the words of my blog friend Katie Reid, we write to remember. As I remembered the suicide of my college friend Chewy and the anniversary of September 11, 2001 on my blog, I realized how true those words are. It is so important for us to remember those who are dear to us, those historic events in the world, and so much more.

In addition, remembering can be bittersweet too. I watched the finale of CSI the other day. When I was at seminary, a group of friends and I would spend every Thursday night watching CSI together. It was hard not to think of them and all we had been through as I watched the finale. I miss those crazy people!

(3) When Life is Wearing On You, God places people–friends—in our lives to journey with us because God does not want life to wear on us. God places those people into our lives to listen to us, to be there for us, to be that shoulder to cry on for us and to a hold a piece of each other’s stories..not to take our stories away from us but to bear the burden with us.

(4) It is so important to spend time with family! I decided to drive home for Labor Day weekend as my Grandma had suffered a stroke several weeks before. It was so good to spend time with my Grandma, Grandpa, my sister, my aunts and uncle, my dad, my step-mom and my sister. We spent a lot of time picking produce from Grandma’s garden which she gladly shared with all of us. I treasure the time I spend with my family especially as my grandparents age.

(5) SO MANY GOOD BOOKS! I finished “Searching for Sunday” by Rachel Held Evans and “Wild in the Hollow” by Amber C. Haines. I just started “For the Love” by Jen Hatmaker. “Accidental Saints” by Nadia Bolz-Weber and “It’s Simply Tuesday” by Emily Freeman are just a few of the books on my to read pile.

(6) Voxer, Periscope, and Twitter…all the social media! I absolutely LOVE Voxer. And I am starting to love Periscope too. It is so cool to be able to see the faces and hear the voices of my blog friends spread all over the world. I have even begun broadcasting my own Scopes on Periscope. I know that so many feel like the world wide web can be such a negative place, but what I have learned is that there are some amazing communities there as well. I love my blogging community so much. You each bless me so immensely!

(7) “She is far more precious than rubies!” A friend commented that to me on a blog post and then I got a Tweet sharing a picture with those words. It is so easy for us to think we are not enough, to think we are not worthy but the truth is that we are ENOUGH! I have put on the new name tag of “more precious than rubies” and I invite you to join me in putting it on because you, my dear friends, are more precious than rubies too!

(8) I learned all the many things that I forgot about the beauty of Fall. I love watching the seasons change. I love all things Pumpkin. I had my first Pumpkin Spice Latte a few weeks ago. I love the cooler air and watching the beauty of God’s creation changing all around me.

(9) Sometimes we just have to be silly and laugh! Thanks to Agape, Joe Davis and Rachel Kurtz for this awesome photo op idea. Little did you know that I needed a good laugh that day. And this photo op made me smile and still makes me smile!

(10) God’s grace is sufficient! It is a grace that God doesn’t wrap in a pretty bow, but rather simply sets it on the table for us to receive. So often we forget the gift of God’s grace though. And because I am continuing to receive and learn from God’s grace, I will be joining in the Write 31 Days challenge and will be sharing 31 Stories of God’s grace. Click Here to learn more about my Write 31 days challenge.

(11) And most of all, I learned that it is pretty great turning another year older. I am so incredibly loved and you all let me know that on the anniversary of my birth. So many Tweets, well wishes on my FaceBook wall and birthday presents. I felt so spoiled! And I got to top it off with some of my favorite gals in the world at our favorite wine bar. Tiger cake, good wine, some of my bestest friends, and celebrating another year of life! I am so very thankful for my 37 years on this year…and trust that year 37 will be a fantastic year too.

Farming, Juggling and our Limitations

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Joining in with the online discussion on the book “On Being A Writer” by Ann Kroeker and Charity Singleton Craig. Today we are working through the last chapter-Chapter 12:Limit.

 As I read through this chapter and listened to the video from Ann and Charity, the image that kept popping up into my mind was a juggler. But the thing is I am not a juggler. I cannot juggle everything. In fact, if I tried to juggle everything, I have no doubt that I would drop several balls.

But that, my friends, I think is the key. We need to learn how to juggle one or two balls at a time. Since I work at a church and preach about every 5-6 weeks, writing is a part of my job. Yes, it is a different kind of writing, but it is writing in one of its many forms. I need to learn how to balance both aspects of my writing life. Perhaps that means that on weeks I am preaching, I write less on the blog.

I am an “outgoing introvert!” (Thanks Katie M. Reid for that definition because it characterizes me perfectly!) I love spending time with my friends and family, but I also love my alone time too. I think it is important for me to learn to place some juggling balls down in order to pick up another one…even if just for a short period of time.

Having grown up as a farmer’s daughter, I understand limits on time. When the harvest is ready and the fields are dry, the crops must be harvested. If there is rain in the forecast and the field is almost finished, then the farmer works until that field is completed even if that means working late into the night. Yet there is only so much a farmer can control, they have limitations on their call.

And as writers, we too have limitations! Charity is spot on when she states: “Sometimes the writing life itself puts limits on us; sometimes we have to limit the rest of our lives in order to be able to write.” Oh how true those words ring for me! Do they ring true for you too?

I need to remember that I can only juggle so much at a time and that that is totally okay.

This book and online discussion using the book “On Being A Writer” by Charity Singleton Craig and Ann Kroeker has been so much fun! It has been a joy to meet other women who are trying to hone their writing skills. I am thankful for each and every person that interacted here and at their blogs as well.

I really can’t pick a favorite chapter, because they all were my favorites. But honestly if I did pick one, it would be the chapter on Engage. There is so much joy in finding “my people” and knowing that I am not on this writing journey alone!

And after these six weeks, I am finding it is easier for me to utter the words “I am a Writer!”

My People

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Joining in with the online discussion on the book “On Being A Writer” by Ann Kroeker and Charity Singleton Craig. Today we are working through Chapter 9: Engage.


“It’s not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer.”–EB White

Karrilee, Tammy, Dana, Valerie, Ingrid, Melissa, Susan, and so many more. These are all the names of women that I didn’t even know a year ago. At that time, I only knew them by their blog names. I met them through their blogs as we participated in the Write 31 Days community. I’ve said it before and I will say it again, I never could have imagined where that journey would lead me. Each and every one of these people have engaged with my blog. They have left comments. We have Voxed each other. We have watched each other’s Periscopes. We have cried with each other, prayed for each other and so much more!

I cannot even begin to put into words what engaging with other bloggers and writers has done for my soul (but I will try!) Many of you know my story of having a negative experience at a writing group at the local library in my previous town several years ago. It was an experience that hurt my heart and caused me to hold back and be leary of other writers etc. Yet these women and men who I have met this past year have given living water to this parched soul! And for that, my friends, I simply say thank you!

There is so much joy in find my people; finding those who utter the two simple words “Me, too!” Our stories aren’t meant to be held close to our chest, but to be shared with each other. And so, I have learned to share my story by engaging with so many linkups (Many of the ones Kate shared in her blog post on Monday: Holly Barrett, Jennifer Dukes Lee, Holley Gerth, etc).

I invite you to engage with these communities too. I love when the link-up host replies to one of my comments. For me, it shows validation for my words. But more than that, it shows me that someone has read my words, identified with them and engaged with them. It reminds me again and again that I am not on this journey alone.

This summer, I had the opportunity to meet three of my blog friends in real life. I cannot even begin to describe to you what that was like. It was like seeing an old friend again, sitting down with coffee and catching up on life. I am already counting down the years, weeks, hours, minutes and seconds until I meet my next blog friends in real life. I also am excited for my first blogging conference whenever that might be! (It is super expensive to fly just about anywhere from North Dakota!) BUT attending a blogging conference is on my personal bucket list!

Thank you for being here dear friends…and thank you for engaging with me and my words! I so appreciate each and every one of you! You are each a  gift!!!

September 11, 2001

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The aroma of baked potatoes and cabbage cooking in my crock pots are filling up my house. The sounds of the television are on in the background. It is a beautiful Fall like day here in North Dakota..about 70 degrees. And as I sit here taking in this gorgeous Fall like day, wrapped up in my favorite quilt, I can’t help but think back to this day; fourteen years ago. The day that cowards flew planes into the World Trade Centers and the Pentagon. It is a day that forever changed history! And since that day, our lives have never been the same!

It was a Tuesday morning. I had just graduated college that previous May and was living at home as I tried to determine where God was calling me next. I was full of so much hope. Yet little did I know that the events of this day would be a megaphone for where God was leading me next. I was curled up on the couch watching episodes of Little House on the Prairie when our Dad walked into the house. He asked if I had on the news and I said no. He told me to turn on the news, so I grabbed the remote and changed the channel. The images on the screen were gutwretchingly painful. I could feel the pit in my stomach and saw the looks of disbelief on my Dad’s face. I desperately wanted to turn the channel back to Laura Ingalls, but I couldn’t. Neither of us could. We were paralyzed by the events unfolding in front of us.

And while those events were unfolding on our televisions, new lives were being born into this world; into a world that had been changed in just a few moments. I think of my friend Emily who was in labor with her daughter Liz on this day. As Liz celebrates her 14th birthday, her mom can’t help but remember what was going on outside her hospital room and the hospital walls that day. I have a feeling Emily and a lot of moms held their children closer and didn’t want to let them go.

For the weeks after, it seemed the world was a better place. We were kinder to each other. We were more respectful of each other. We held our loved ones even closer. We even clung tighter to our faith. Yet today, it sometimes feels like we have forgotten the days following 9-11. We aren’t always so nice to each other. We take life for granted. And my friends, I don’t want that for us. I want us to remember…remember those lives that were lost that day…remember the light found in Jesus Christ who is our one constant.


Not a month after 9-11, I found myself touring Wartburg Seminary with my friend Pauline. From the moment, I stepped on that campus I felt God calling me into ministry. I wasn’t sure what that ministry would look like, but I heard God loud and clearly that day. God was calling me to be a woman who would pick up basin and towel and wash the feet of all God’s people. God was calling me to show Jesus’ example of servanthood to the world.

Not only did my life change, but all of our lives changed on that horrific September day. In the words of my friend Katie M. Reid on her Periscope today, we write to remember! Indeed we do…we write to remember! And so tonight, I write to remember all of those who lost loved ones at the World Trade Centers, or at the Pentagon or on Flight 93. #Wewillneverforget!!

(This link will take you to a poem I wrote four years ago for the 10th anniversary of 9-11. I hope you enjoy it. It is one of my favorite pieces I have ever written! Ten Years Later by Tara L. Ulrich)

Staring Back at Me

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Little did I know that when I began this blog, that this space would become exactly my mirror staring back at me. In this space, I have written about being a daughter of someone who daily struggles with a mental illness. I have written about the joy I find in playing and spending time with children. I have written about my deepest desires asking “How long, Lord? Oh how long Lord?” I have written about friendships that only God can orchestrate. I have written about who and whose I am!

Last October, when I joined the Write 31 Days challenge, I never would have imagined how healing my series would be for me, but it healed wounds that I didn’t even know where still there. It opened up my world to others who have blessed my life in more ways than I could have ever imagined. And to be honest, writing our story down was and continues to be one of the bravest things that I have ever done. Because even yet today, our journey of mental illness ebbs and flows. There are days I am proud of who I am, proud of where I have come from, but then there are days, that I wonder why us, why our family.
A year ago, during the Write 31 Days challenge, I penned the words below (in italics) after completing the Write 31 Days challenge. Even looking back at them now, I realize how vulnerable I was. In the words of Ann in this chapter, I never realized how desperately I wanted and needed to share our story. Ann writes: “I desperately wanted to understand myself, unearth who I was meant to become. And deep down, I wanted to write.” Yep, I wanted and needed to write! Yes, there have been times when I was afraid to hit the publish button and there are other pieces of our story that I have held close to my chest. But unearthing our story led me to realize how brave and strong my Mom is, but also how brave and strong I am as her daughter.

An excerpt from Praying on the Prairie originally posted on October 31, 2015:

“You do not need to know precisely what is happening or exactly where it is all going. What you need is to recognize the possibilities and challenges offered by the present moment, and to embrace them with courage, faith and hope”–Thomas Merton


“Saying yes to the situations that stretch you and scare you and ask you to be a better you than you think you can be”–Annie Downs; Lets All Be Brave; P. 107

I am reminded of a word “eucharisto.” It is a word that my colleague shared with me a year ago in his sermon on the day I shared with the congregation that I was leaving and had accepted a new call. In that sermon, my colleague talked about listing our blessings and thanking God for all the things God gives us. He later told us that the word in the text for ‘thanksgiving’ is translated ‘Eucharisto.’ As I sat there and listened to his sermon, I found myself reflecting on that word. And today I find myself clinging to that word again.


As I sit here this morning and reflect on the last 31 days, I find myself once again clinging to that word ‘eucharisto.’ This write31 days community has blessed me in more ways than I can count or even imagine! Today I am so very thankful for each and every one of you; for you who shared your stories with me, for you who told me how my story blessed you, and for each of who ventured to participate in this challenge. So today I am uttering these words back to you my dear friends, ‘Eucharisto!’


And as I give thanks for each of you, I am also very thankful for my momma. She has been through so much. Yet she is one of the most beautiful faith-filled women that I know. Our story of mental illness will always be a part of who my mom is and who my family is. I hope that through these 31 days, I have been able to let so many know they are not alone. I also hope that I have been able to share our story, and shatter, at least, some of the stigma associated with mental illness. Thank you for reading my story and walking with us through these 31 days because I am a daughter; a daughter of someone who daily lives and struggles with a mental illness. And the truth is I will always be that daughter.


I am and always will be that daughter. This summer was a great summer, but it also was crummy too. While I was in Colorado, Mom ended up in the hospital. The doctor diagnosed her with a urinary tract infection. She was released from the hospital and seemed to be doing well. Only a few days after I returned from Colorado, I got a call saying she had gone to the doctor again. They said it was still the UTI and after time, she would be fine again. Then on our way back from the National Youth Gathering, I got a call from the nursing home yet again. Mom was adamantly asking to move (which made no sense because she loves it there) This was a side of Mom that we had not seen. No answers…and only more and more confusion. While my sister and I were on our sister’s trip, we got a call asking to move her. We were adamant about her not moving, yet there seemed to be no solution. With much hesitation, we gave permission to move her to a new facility. She seems happy there, but still is not the Mom we have known and loved. I only have more and more questions and no answers. My prayer is that soon Mom will return to her old self and will be able to move back closer to me. (Instead of 45 minutes from me, she is now like 4 hours away).

Like our story continues to ebb and flow, I am realizing how healing it is for me to share our story. I sit her with my cup of tea, talking to you like an old friend. And I take comfort in knowing that this old friend knows me and our story. (I also have dear friends that I can do this with in real life too!) And as you listen, I find myself leaning in to tell you more of my story.

In telling my story, I find that it is also important to play. I love holding infants. There is something so holy about holding that little life in my hands. On Monday, I made a pit stop to see a dear friend and her new baby. It was just exactly what the doctor ordered. This weekend, I was able to spend time with my family. I helped my aunt put up veggies from my Grandma’s garden. I sat and broke bread with my dad and sister at the cafe downtown. My sister and I laughed and smiled as we learned how to use our new selfie sticks.

But, the most joy was playing with our brand new farm puppy Kotee. Kotee loved all the attention my sister and I gave him. He was a little wound up by the time our aunt and uncle headed back to the farm. (Sorry P and T!) The best was seeing how much grandma enjoyed Kotee. Recovering from surgery, Kotee brought joy and peace to Grandma. He was the best medicine for her! And seeing that reminded me, reminded all of us of the importance of remembering to play.

As we remember to play, I am reminded of how life too ebbs and flows. It has its ups and its downs. It has its moments of ordinariness and extra-ordinariness.

“Life is amazing. And then it’s awful. And then it’s amazing again. And in between the amazing and the awful it’s ordinary and mundane and routine. Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. That’s just living heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. And it’s breathtakingly beautiful.’–LR Knost

A Work in Progress

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Joining in with the online discussion on the book “On Being A Writer” by Ann Kroeker and Charity Singleton Craig. Today we are working through Chapter 7: Promote.

I am just going to start off by stating a pretty obvious fact for me….This chapter is one of the hardest for me. I am not one to toot my own horn. I am one who does a way better job of encouraging others. So when it comes to my own writing, I have a way harder time promoting myself.

In fact, in high school and college, I was active in their theater programs. But I was more content to be behind the scenes rather than on stage. I was more willing to let my co-stars names shine in big bright neon lights. In college, I had the opportunity to play Anne Frank’s mother in the Diary of Anne Frank. But I wouldn’t have gotten that part if I hadn’t tried out for the play prior to that: “The Miracle Worker” (The story of Helen Keller). I was the tutor for the young artists who were in the play. After acting in The Diary of Anne Frank, I spent the rest of the years behind scenes; being the prop mistress.

That is only one example of how I am way better at encouraging others and not promoting myself.

The more I have become a writer, I have learned the importance of promoting my own work. When I first started blogging, I barely shared any of my posts. That negative voice inside my head kept replaying: “Why would anyone read your words?” But as I have grown into my role as a writer, I have taken small steps to promote my work. Every time I post, my post is shared on Facebook. I have also begun sharing my blog posts on Twitter.

And within the last week, I have begun using Periscope. I am praying about it and waiting for answers to best use that format to share and promote my words. I am reminded of the words in this chapter when Ann shares these words from her publisher: ” I would simply ask, he said, Couldn’t you see speaking as another avenue to share that same message? Your words–Your message—spoken?” (AHA!!)

I don’t think I will ever be totally comfortable promoting my own work. But I am learning and growing and trying my best to promote my words/my story.

For now, let’s just say I am a work in progress!

Being Drug Out of My Writing Chair

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Joining in with the online discussion on the book “On Being A Writer” by Ann Kroeker and Charity Singleton Craig. Today we are working through Chapter 5: Write. 


“A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word to paper.”–E.B. White.

But what do you do when the writing can be the hardest part. Yes, I realize that if I am going to call myself a writer, I must sit down and actually write….but some days that can be so much easier said than done. As the Director of Home and Family Ministry at a church, the words I write might be a sermon, newsletter article, Confirmation lesson etc, so when it’s time to write on the blog that can be hard to do.

As you already know, I still have a hard time calling myself a writer, but I am getting there. My mom has told me stories about how when I was little, I didn’t ask for a toy, but rather pen and paper. I was content to pour my words out in stories and characters even at a young age. Little did I realize what an impact words would have on my life.

Words, in many ways, became my lifeline. In English class, I loved when we had a writing assignment. When I went off to work at SuperAwesomeBibleCamp and told our story of journeying with mental illness for the first time, words became my prayers lifted up to God like hands raised to receive. At seminary, I struggled some. But it was a seminary professor who realized my love of words and poetry that helped me finally pass his class as an independent study. We would tape our conversations, I would go back and listen to them, and then I would come armed with my questions during the next class time.

Words continued to be my oxygen as I used them to share my family’s journey with a mental illness. But it really wasn’t until I joined the Write 31 Days challenge last October, that I realized how powerful my words were for me and for others. It is the one time that I truly sat down and wrote every single day. It is the one time that I felt like I found my sweet spot. It is the one time that I realized how there is so much power in hearing those words “me, too.” In my own words, I was able to breathe easier, because without being able to share my/our story, it felt like I was alone.

Even though I have found that my words do make a difference, there are still so many times when I get distracted; Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc. (Can anyone else relate?) I scroll through FB looking for that quote that I saw earlier and want to write about. Before I know it 30 minutes have gone by, I still haven’t found that quote and I still haven’t written ANYTHING. It is so easy to let the world around us distract us too.

Sometimes I think it is so easy to get distracted because I am striving for perfection (Anyone else shake their head at Charity’s words: “The second reason we resist sitting down to work is we want our writing to be perfect!”) I will find anything in my line of sight to help me procrastinate because so often I get caught up in the comparison game. That blog is prettier than mine; she writes so much more eloquently than I do etc. But then I read these words from Charity and I am convicted: “We have something to say that can come only from us.” Only I can tell my story of being a daughter of someone who daily struggles with a mental illness. Only I can tell my story of being a single 36 (SOON to be 37) year old who yearns so very deeply to be a wife and momma. Only I can tell the story of who God has called ME to be.

Trusting in that promise and knowing that my words are valid, perhaps someone just needs to drag me out of my writing chair to show me the surprising places where my words have and will show up!

Finding Your Voice

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I am linking up for the Five Minute Friday. The FMF is hosted by Kate Motaung on her blog Heading Home. Today’s prompt is “Find.” Write for five minutes; unedited.


I heard the word prompt tonight and I immediately knew where I was going to go with this word. This post is dedicated to those who feel like they have lost their voice, thought they never had it or just simply can’t find it at the moment.

As a writer, I think it is so easy for us to get caught up in the comparison game and to think we don’t have anything important to say. But the truth is we all have something to say. We all have different gifts. We all have a story worth sharing. There is power in hearing those words “me too!” Yet fear has a way of creeping in–fear of rejection, fear of failure, fear of—and giving us laryngitis.

Though God has a way of giving us our voice even when we think we have nothing worth sharing. I am reminded of how in Scripture we hear the words: “Ask and it will be given to you; Seek, and you shall find; Knock, and the door will be opened onto you.” God has a way of giving our voices back to us especially when we ask for God to give us the words we need to speak.

Yet there are also going to be times when we think we cannot find our voice at all. It is especially during those times that I believe we will need to trust each other. We will have to give words to each other’s stories as we speak for each other. The truth is that God sent Jesus to be a voice for the voiceless…to speak for the downtrodden, the lost, and the vulnerable. And in our own vulnerability, God calls us to give voice to each other’s voicelessness.

“In life, finding a voice is speaking and living the truth. Each of you is an original. Each of you has a distinctive voice. When you find it, your story will be told. You will be heard.”–John Grisham

Those Four Little Words

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A black binder full of my poetry sits on the bottom shelf of my bookcase…

A bound copy of a poetry anthology sits on that shelf as well with one of my poems published in it….

(Both items hidden away so others will not see them!)

A blog post of mine has been shared by the ELCA on their site “Living Lutheran”…

And I have two blogs….one specifically for my writing and the other being my main blog.

Yet I still only can seem to muster the words, “Oh I like to write” OR “Writing and/or Blogging is a Hobby.” But I still do not and cannot seem to identify myself as a writer!

When I was little, my mom said I was a kid who was happy with pen and paper and not with toys. I was content to sit and pour words out onto a page for others to read. As I got older, I loved my creative writing classes and my English classes which led to me getting a Communications degree when I headed off to college. I have a degree in Communications with an emphasis in Journalism and an English minor.

One would think that those credentials in and of themselves would qualify me and help me to identify as a writer…but they don’t. I still struggle to find those words: “I am a writer!” So often I find that I get caught up in the comparison game. So and so’s blog is so much better and prettier than mine. So and so writes more eloquently than I do. But what I need to remember is that it isn’t about comparing my words to others because my words are simply that: “my own words”.

Several years ago, I joined a writing group at my local library. I was excited to meet new people outside of work and was hoping to share my words with others and hone my craft. One evening, I chose to share a poem I had written sharing my families struggle with mental illness. As I finished reading, one of the other participants lit into me: “Do your family members know what you are writing about? How dare you write about this subject?” I ran out of that room as quickly as possible, put on my coat, and ventured out in the bitter North Dakota cold straight to my car. I opened the door and sat down in the driver’s seat where the tears immediately began to flow. I picked up my cell phone and dialed the number for my colleague. I was crying so hard by the time he answered the phone that he had to tell me to breathe. This woman had literally taken the wind out of my sails and I now questioned even more if God was calling me to write; let alone be a writer.

Over the next several days, weeks, months, and years, I have had to learn from that experience. I have realized that so often my words have been words of healing for me…and for others and not words of pain. I have come to realize that for me often my words have been the bravest words I have shared because they have opened up my own vulnerability.  I have come to also realize that my words embody my story and continually remind me of who and whose I am. I have also come to realize that my words are a gift from God! And trusting in that gift, I am trying to find the courage to utter those four simple words “I am a writer!”

I’ll admit that more often than not I have a hard time receiving this gift, but the truth is that God has empowered so many of us to write. I hear others including my friends and family call me a writer, but I still have a hard time believing them. Their words are gift, yet so often I don’t hear them at all. My ears need to be open to hearing the voice of God proclaiming to me and to so many of us “You are indeed a writer. I gifted you to be able to share your story through words. Your words are not a waste!”

It is extremely scary and vulnerable to utter those four simple words. Yet as dear Holley Gerth states: “Be courageous and write in a way that scares you a little.” So even though it still scares me to let those four simple words come out my mouth, I am going to lean into them, keep writing and continue saying them until hopefully I believe them for myself.

I AM A WRITER!

I am linking up with my favorites today–Kate Motaung and her series On Being A Writer, Holly Barrett and Testimony Tuesday, Kelly and the RaRa Linkup, Holley and Coffee for Your Heart, and Jennifer and Tell His Story.


 



 

Noticed by God (Five Minute Friday)

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I am linking up for the Five Minute Friday. (It’s Thursday and I just attended my first FMF Twitter Party where the prompt was released. So much fun! Already looking forward to next week’s party) The FMF is hosted by Kate Motaung on her blog Heading Home. Today’s prompt is “Notice.” Write for five minutes; unedited.

I pour my heart and soul out onto the page. But does anyone notice?

You pour your heart and soul out onto the page too. But does anyone notice you too?

So often we get get caught up in the statistics. Is anyone reading my heart and soul? Is it even worth it for me to pour my heart onto the page? Yet that isn’t at all what God wants us to notice.

God wants us to notice each other; to notice each other being brave. God wants us to see each others hearts, words, and even tears poured out for each other to notice. God wants us to notice each other as God notices us.

God looks down and wants us to hear him saying, “Child, I notice you. I hear your every prayer. I see every tear that falls from your eyes. I see and hear every word that pours out of your soul. I notice you because you are my children; “Fearfully and wonderfully made.”

God says…I indeed notice you…and I want you to notice each other.
I want you to notice the man standing on the street corner asking for help.
I want you to notice the single mother struggling to care for herself and her children.
I want you to notice all of my broken children…because I notice you all.

YOU ARE INDEED NOTICED, MY BELOVED CHILDREN!!!