It wasn’t cool then.  I am certain of this.  But, as I pushed publish after every “goodbye”, or every “hello”, or every “what was I thinking” moment, every single awesome adventure in mothering, in wifing, in foster mothering, in friending, in nonprofit starting, I got more confident in who God was creating me to be.  In the beginning my faith was so strong.  I prayed over entries and I trusted the process.  Writing helped me.

I learned early on in my life that if something helps you to take it. Don’t fight it. I figured life is hard so if something MIGHT make it easier try it. Oils, chiropractor, gym membership, vegetarian cooking.....and of course blogging...... if it makes it easier than JUST SAY YES to it all. So I did. And off we went. On adventures provoked just by my heart being poured out onto the keys. 

But saying yes eventually wasn’t that smart.  My purpose was lost and some how blogging became a career.  (A fun career but still somewhere I needed to be.  That somewhere usually meant I had to pack a suitcase, make sure my roots were the appropriate color, outfit coordinated for Instagram, have to be at the airport, climb through security, sit and wait, is my plane delayed, are the boys fed at home, is my husband letting them watch scary moves???? kind of somewhere.  It was fun and often exhilarating and I did it while often getting paid at the same exact time.  But I never once in all of my time on the road or in the air truly felt it to be rewarding. Maybe a little bit but it was seldom.  I blogged for over 10 years of my life and I could not describe it as rewarding????? 

With the realization of this and the tumor on the edge of being discovered I went to my online server and deleted my sites.  All of my posts.  All of my blogs.  All of my pictures.....GONE! I was broken.  The blog wasn’t what it was anymore.  My body was hardly working.  I wrote here....the only spot I really truly have anymore that I was done blogging.  No one saw it.  Everyone had left. I thought I was saying goodbye  I meant it.  I truly thought my story was ending.   

Then in September 2017 they found the tumor. Behind my eyes, encasing glands, and growing.  Evidently I did have a story to tell????  God said yes.

Recently I have written on Facebook but I worry about the algorithms and the things I can’t control and my message being sent to someone that has no desire to see it.  Here seems safer for me to write and here it seems quieter.  It seems cleaner.  It seems more me. (Tho I am not sure at all if the geeky side is ok with any of the way this platform is designed but whatever....I release the need to control all of the things)

So here I will be.  I will write where I need to Facebook one day and here the next. Those who desire will know where to find me.  Those who want to comment can.  

But I will write for me. Seldom edited!

I write so I can process my thoughts and preserve my memories.  I will write about my highs and my lows.  I will write to my children and about them.  I will write so I can remember.  

 Openly.  

Telling my story. Because evidently it’s not finished. :) and I am ok with this.