October 28, 2014

Wake {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

"You live your life like a tornado; destruction follows everywhere you go."

For me, those Sara Groves lyrics bring to mind very specific people and situations. Do you know any of those tornado folks—the ones who seem to spin out of control with no concern for who is affected, who is reeling in devastation from their actions, lack of action, words?

Every one of those stormy individuals leaves behind a wake of hurting people, who must pick up the debris of a chaos they didn't cause and attempt to go on with life. I have not had such a person very close to me; I have not personally been left in the wake. But the song goes on to say, "It hurts when you hit at the hearts of the ones I love." And it does.

I hurt for the abandoned wife, the left behind children, the verbally abused, the financially taken advantage of, the brainwashed, the emotionally wounded. I hurt for them and feel angry at their storm and helpless to do anything about it. It's a vulnerable, powerless feeling.

But I do the one thing I can.

I pray for those left in the wake, for God can both calm the storm and rebuild the ruins.







This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 27, 2014

Free {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

Maybe it’s because I’ve not been feeling well this week. Maybe my thoughts are with dear family members in tough situations. Maybe it’s because I’m reading a novel about the Underground Railroad.

Whatever the case, when I think “free,” I think of Heaven.

I imagine the crippled diabetic leaving behind her wheelchair, the blind beggar seeing gold-paved streets, the Parkinson’s patient sitting calm and still and steady at Jesus’ feet. I can see the bullied, the neglected, the ostracized, the enslaved, those labels all melting away in the welcome of Heaven. I think of myself no longer struggling against this selfish flesh, nothing restraining me from living out Christ’s character.

I don’t picture the red, white, and blue waving over verdant spaces in fresh air. It isn’t soldiers and grand battles that come to mind. I don’t hear patriotic tunes.

I hear Negro spirituals.

I think those antebellum lyricists were onto something when they sang of Heavenly freedom. They, of all people, could’ve written volumes about desiring earthly independence. They could have sung of physical release from shackles, of escape to geography-based liberty. But theirs is a legacy of longing for the true freedom no one could remove them from.

An eternal free.




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 26, 2014

Visit {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

In the hot, sticky days before school began again, the children fussed—the tiny angelic one, the two elementary-aged siblings, the teenager. And I, aunt and sister to them, fussed too, though I was in the early years of my twenties. We were restless, tired of each other, outraged at the smallest inconveniences and ready to argue for any cause. The strangling heat forced us to stay indoors in one another’s company. And so the bickering went on. It went on until I could bear it no more.

With no plan but an exasperated desire to interrupt the arguing, if only for a little while, I ordered everyone outdoors. My mind raced for ideas even as I directed them into the Missymobile (my old faithful car had been dubbed this by neighborhood kids) and told them to buckle their seatbelts, fastening in the toddler's bulky child seat.

I drove and drove; we rode and rode. Irritated but compliant children stared out the windows in begrudging silence. We found ourselves on dirt and paved roads that stretched out eternally, rippling in the heat. They seemed to lead nowhere. Behind the wheel, I myself didn’t know where we were going until we were almost there.

Far out in the country, past fields of crops, down a snaking, sandy road, we pulled into the grass driveway of a widow from our church congregation. “We’re here for a visit,” I told the carfull. On seeing the surprising troop of all ages that appeared on her doorstep, the older lady seemed delighted. We greeted her awkwardly. She ushered us in and sat us down at her kitchen table before we knew what was happening. Debbie Cakes and orange sodas sprang up before us faster than we could politely consume them.

I don’t remember what we talked about around that table. We weren’t there long before we piled back into the Missymobile with a more amiable quiet between us. All I know is that in a warm little kitchen on a miserable day, a visit with a hospitable older lady offered perspective, pulled us outside of our own troubles, and reconnected five selfish children with each other and the world.




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 25, 2014

Enjoy {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

"Enjoy."

I place the word on my tongue like candy, and as it melts I catch flavors of

Stealing a nap on a Sunday afternoon  
Laughing with my sister  
Walking through the orchard in horizontal sunlight 
Cuddling in blankets on the couch with Steven, nibbling dark chocolate 
Claiming a rocking chair on the front porch during a thunderstorm 
Journaling in the old white swing under the pecan boughs 
Feeling like I’ve genuinely connected with a student  
Listening to a captivating audiobook while cleaning the kitchen  
Relishing a hot bath while my husband’s beautiful guitar or piano music fills the house 
Sipping black coffee and reading Daily Light on the Daily Path in crisp rays of sunrise

What does "enjoy" taste like for you?




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 23, 2014

Look {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

Nearing the pecan orchard on a hazy summer afternoon, you may see a tangle of knee-deep weeds reaching lazily up from the ground. But if you look, really look, the scene is a carpet of miniature blossoms—delicate purple star-shaped blooms, pinky-sized roses, lemon-tinted florets as small as sand gnats.

Maybe you notice movement above, in the branches. But look, truly look. Before you even turned in his direction, the red-tailed hawk lifted majestic wings and launched a graceful glide to the neighboring property.
He swept soundlessly to a new vantage point where he watches you. Also inspecting you are smoke-colored squirrels, who somehow always skitter to the opposite side of the tree trunks just before your eyes can focus on them. The smear of blue in your peripheral vision was an Eastern bluebird whose nest rests feet away. A mockingbird perches on the fence wire, scanning the ground for activity. She will swoop in and snatch up the beetle wriggling right where you’re about to step, and you’ll miss the whole affair unless you slow and look.

Look up further, patiently look, and see that the cottony clouds you think are white actually glow with yellow and lavender and peeks of silver.




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 22, 2014

Expect {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

When will I learn that I can expect God to hear me? That I can expect Him to answer, to interject Himself into this story in a big way? Why do I hold myself back from expecting, believing He will do what He has promised?

Do I think I must protect myself from being disappointed by Him? Do I harden my heart out of fear, worry that I won't be able to handle it if He doesn't respond? Perhaps I'm simply tired of expecting, exhausted by the hard work of hope?


Lord, along with all of creation, let me dare to expect great things. Let me "come with expectation, waiting here for You." 

You've always delivered in Your time.







This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 20, 2014

Fear [Not] {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

What if there’s a natural disaster?

Fear not.

What if my house catches fire while I’m away?

Fear not.

What if I’m assaulted, robbed, kidnapped, shot?

Fear not.

What if someone breaks into my home in the middle of the night?

Fear not.

What if that family member never changes?

Fear not.

What if the government does what I dread most?

Fear not.

What if that most despised candidate is elected for office?

Fear not.

What if I lose my job?

Fear not.

What if people don’t like me?

Fear not.

What if I catch Ebola?

Fear not.

What if I have cancer?

Fear not.

What if I die in a painful way?

Fear not.

What if my parents get Alzheimer’s?

Fear not.

What If my husband dies?

Fear not.

What if my children grow up to hate me?

Fear not.

What if my deepest longings go unfulfilled?

Fear not.

What if I end up alone?

Fear not, for I am with you;
be not dismayed, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you,
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10





This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 15, 2014

Life {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

On a May evening when I was twelve years old, a phone call prompted my parents to usher my younger sister and me out the door for a two-hour drive. My older sister was at full term expecting her second child, and had gone to the hospital in labor. We arrived there, too, and we waited. I went in to talk with my sister as she lay in the hospital bed. I went out to the waiting room again. More family arrived. More waiting. I think I slept.

At last, a door opened and a thrill came over the family-filled room; the baby was here! Yet more waiting followed that news. I waited while nurses performed various standard checks and procedures. I waited while the grandparents held her. I waited while other relatives older than me held her. It felt like I waited while everybody else in the whole world held that little one.

Finally it was my turn.

Though I was young, this should’ve been routine. In the six years leading up to that day, I’d been at the hospital for the births of a younger sister, three nieces, and a nephew. This time, though, exhaustion or maturity caught up with me.

As I marveled at baby Lily’s feathery eyelashes and cuddled her warm, impossibly light frame, awareness flooded me. Here was a being who didn’t exist just nine months before. This was not merely a fragile tiny body, but an everlasting soul. In my arms I held eighty or ninety or one hundred years of potential.

Down the face of a preadolescent aunt who rarely cried, tears spilled without reserve because of the beauty and gravity of life.



This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 14, 2014

Away {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

Two of my greatest desires in this life are for purpose and peace.

While there is magnificent purpose in living in the imago Dei, there are earthly obstacles. There’s friction along the path of glorifying God and enjoying Him. I feel I will never be able to do so wholeheartedly, with no reservations, no hesitations, until I’m somewhere else. Somewhere Other.

Somewhere Away.

While there is great peace in Christ, I don’t walk in that peace in every single moment. I forget Who He is, I lose that peace, and I need to be reminded again. Even in my most peaceful moments, potential anxieties tug at the back corners of my mind. I don’t think I’ll ever fully realize the peace I long for while I’m flesh-bound. I wasn't meant to find it here.

I’ll find it somewhere else. Away.

In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis had something to say about the Away I long for.

“If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 13, 2014

Work {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

I love to learn of people’s childhood aspirations, what they wanted to be when they grew up. Always, always I wanted to be a mom. But there were other pursuits that appealed to me, too.

I wanted to write from the moment I first held a crayon in my chubby little hand. I penned boxes and boxes of homemade books, written and illustrated at four and six and eight and on and on. The illustration tapered off in middle school. But the writing continued, now on journal pages and floppy disks and flash drives stashed away.

Not to the exclusion of writing, I also wanted to be a storm chaser. I distinctly recall standing just inside the glass back door of my childhood home, watching my dad walk around the backyard during a lightning storm. He was completely unafraid, and I remember deciding at that moment that I wasn’t scared of weather either. To this day, in thunderstorms, you’ll find me on the front porch watching the action.

There was a brief astronaut phase, thanks to watching “Space Camp” with my cousin. The desire faded when I realized how much math would be involved in the college education of an astronaut. I still love to gaze upwards on a starry night, though, or to lie in the grass in the wee morning hours for a meteor shower.

When you were a child, what did you want your grownup work to be?




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 12, 2014

Rest {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

Scripture abounds with rest. Have you noticed that?

Yes, there are admonitions to work hard, to worship, to fight the good fight. There are also words about rest.

This theme has been cropping up in my Bible study. Finding rest in God is a motif repeated in the Old and New Testaments. It’s beautiful. I still have delving to do as I study the topic, but I've made a few observations about resting in God.

Resting in Him isn’t napping while the world deteriorates around you. It isn’t burying your head in the sand and ignoring the work that must be done.

It’s a state of the heart that is attainable in quiet reprieve or the buzz of commotion.

It’s the sense of peace I find when my mind stops racing to figure things out, because I trust that He’s got the solution. I don’t stop seeking Him for the answer, but I can seek calmly because I know He has it.

It’s when I no longer feel suffocated by the impossible burden of striving to please God, because Christ has done that for me. I still live for His glory, but I find repose in the certainty that Jesus will complete the sanctification process He started in me.




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 11, 2014

Teach {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

I had an extraordinary experience with being homeschooled. My parents poured out teaching day after day for twelve years and beyond. In the second half of my homeschool experience I also had video teachers who taught Algebra II and Chemistry and British Literature. Later I had college professors who drilled Bible and United States History and Early Childhood Development.

When I think back on those teachers, I recall a few specific facts they instilled.
I remember my mom using mayonnaise jars and gallon milk jugs to teach me units of measure in first grade. I remember Mrs. Schmuck teaching poetic meter in eighth grade, her voice gently exaggerating the emphasis on stressed syllables. In my sophomore year of college, Mr. Willems expounded on genetics with a level of humor and nonchalance that only a bespectacled Frenchman can achieve.

But these aren’t the chief impressions those teachers left with me.

What I remember most is that each of them cared about me and they wanted me to care about learning.

I think that is what it means to truly teach.




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 10, 2014

Care {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

Are we weak and heavy-laden
Cumbered with a load of care
Precious Savior, still our refuge
Take it to the Lord in prayer
 
—Joseph M. Scriven
Those lyrics and their melody played in my mind upon seeing that the writing prompt for this post was care. It annoyed me. Those lyrics are frustrating because they're far more easily said than done. They make it sound so simple to rid oneself of that “load of care.” Just pray about it. Bam! Cares gone.

The lyrics are Biblical. We’re instructed: “Cast all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you” [1 Peter 5:7].

But it’s so hard. Casting cares is not as easy as casting a fishing line.

And yet… casting a fishing line was quite difficult for me before I practiced it many, many times. It was exasperating because most of the time the line didn’t even cast; it just floundered in the air near my head and then landed in a tangle.

I must still be in the process of learning to cast my cares. So many times when I attempt to give them to the Lord in prayer and be done with them, I find they’ve only tangled around me yet again.

Like the art of casting a fishing line, perhaps casting cares only comes through practice.

I won’t give up.




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 9, 2014

Join {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

photo by Candace Williamson
We have this huge framed photograph hanging in our living room— our two hands joined together on our wedding day.

You can see the edge of my white dress and his black vest. There’s a scarlet church door behind us. But there are no faces, no feet, no hair, no veil. Just our two hands tightly clasped.

I look at that picture often. I’ve gazed on it in good times and thought sweetly of the friendship it symbolizes. I've glanced at it as I passed by on mundane days, and remembered the permanent promises we made. I’ve glared at it in more strained moments and hesitatingly accepted its reminder; we are joined, he and I.

Not just our hands. Our lives.

We are as joined together as my own pair of hands, the same flesh in complementary partnership.




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 8, 2014

Say {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

I don't usually say much.

For as long as I remember, I've been told I should talk more, say what I'm thinking, "be more outgoing." I know I need to reach out more. I work on it.

I'm under no illusions of being special. Multitudes of folks out there were made by the Creator with similar quiet ways, Andrews in a culture that favors Peters. So with writing as my medium of "saying," I have a few things to say about not saying much.

If I say little, it's not because I am afraid. It doesn't mean I don't like you. It certainly does not indicate unhappiness. It's because I'm thinking and learning and processing. It's because God designed me to take in the world gently, pondering in my heart what I haven't yet synthesized.

Maybe that's different from the way God made you. If so, I absolutely adore that fact, because I love to listen. I love to watch. I love people.

All my listening and watching and people-loving makes me good at praying for people. If I know you, I probably already pray for you in solitude. I will pray with you one-on-one in a heartbeat.

After we part ways I'll think of things I wish I had said. I'll write them in my journal, maybe text them to you.

But in a moment of interaction, if I say little, I'm probably being myself with you in the most real way.



This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 7, 2014

Go {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

No, stay, I say. Don’t go.

It never stops, the going, going, going.
It’s the natural leaning of life to go.
It’s what we end up doing if we don’t make a choice otherwise.

Let’s be different, you and me.
Let’s linger, remain.
Let’s cherish here and now, just the two of us.
Let’s stick around this little town and call it home.
Let’s sit on the front porch and talk and laugh and stay.

We’ll see others go out and about, always hurried, ever busy. Let’s stay in.
We’ll see couples go their separate ways. Let’s stay together.
We’ll see dear ones go from earthly life to heavenly. And even though we’ll miss them, let’s stay behind as long as we can.

No, stay, I say. Don’t go.




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 6, 2014

Know {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

“But what do I know?” We say it as an afterthought, trying to soften or disclaim an opinion just spoken.

It is a question I’ve asked myself often of late. What do I really know?

There’s a lot I thought I knew, so many inferred rules, extracted principles, formulas. And one by one, they’re proven unfounded or exaggerated or ineffective. I’m left wondering, with all of that fallen away, what do I actually know after all?

He shakes everything that can be shaken so that we can see what remains [Hebrews 12].

And what remains—what I know even in the most doubtful moments—is that God exists. I know He is huge and powerful and owns this place. I know that I would be terrified of Him if I didn’t know His Son and know that to know His Son is to know Him [John 14]. I know that He loves me and that He loves you. And if you and I knew nothing else in the world, knowing Him would be enough.




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 5, 2014

Stuck {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

I’ve been stuck for the past three years. Stuck in one place, in so many ways. Stuck in bitterness because of that.

At first I prayed relentlessly that God would change things. He didn’t. So over time I prayed less, lost faith that He was hearing me. I tried to be at peace with being stuck, but the trying was always in vain.

A week ago I felt His prompting to pray again. Falteringly, I did. It hurt to pray, because it meant reaching out again for the hope that He would work; it meant risking the desolation and vulnerability I felt when He didn’t.

But this time, He did.

And now I’m stuck in a different way. Stuck because I have so little faith that I hesitate to believe the change is true or that it will last. I’m cynical, expecting a turn for worse even when I've seen God work. I’m like the Israelites who, when they’d just eaten miracle manna and meat, grumbled and doubted He would come through for them in their mere thirst [Exodus 17:1-7].

But I don’t want to be stuck here in unbelief. I want to embrace God’s change, believe it’s real, and move forward with Him. I want to cry out with the desperate father of that demon-possessed boy, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” [Mark 9:14-29]




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 4, 2014

Learn {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

I’m learning that almost anything can be learned.

Even concepts I used to think only came inherently to a chosen few. Things like contentment and joy and being a good listener, like trust and gentleness and a quiet spirit.

I should’ve known.

After all, Paul said that he had learned to be content in any condition. The Proverbs were written to be learned from, and they exhort me many times to listen well. And if you can be instructed to adorn yourself with a gentle and quiet spirit, surely that must learnable too.

The thing about most learning is that it requires discipline. It requires the tough choice to take the action that’s most opposite your inclination. But over time, those hard decisions become easier, become more natural. And suddenly one day you realize that you’ve learned—that you’re learning—to be more like Christ.





This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 3, 2014

New {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

The new is uncomfortable and delightful.

It’s different, scary, unpredictable. It’s refreshing, exhilarating, stimulating.

New shoes not yet worn in are fun but hurt at first. A new house is fresh and clean and you get to decorate it, but you may also forget which drawer holds the toothpaste or stub your toe in the night on that wall you forgot exists. A new marriage is full of joy; but there are also a million ways in which the bride and groom will have to change and a thousand terrifying things they’ll learn about each other over time.

Being a new creation in Christ is that way too.

It’s having a nature you’re not accustomed to transplanted into your soul, one that brims with joy and promise and peace. But it also wants frighteningly counter-cultural things, craves the unpredictability of following Christ, asks the Spirit to “lead me where my trust is without borders” [listen].

The new is uncomfortable and delightful.




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 2, 2014

View {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

The view from my kitchen window changes with the seasons.

In summer, it’s all green up high and shade down low, thick grass under thick branches under thick blue sky. The entire scene wavers and shimmers with heat. The old grey metal barn radiates thickest waves of it.

Fall thins things out. The sky is a thinner blue, the leaves thin from the branches, and the grass’s green thins. Sunlight dims. Shades of brown creep in. The old grey dilapidated barn is a thinner grey.

Winter hardens. Up from the brown ground, spidery bare branches stretch to the wan canopy above, their barely visible shadows etched far across the orchard. The old grey brittle barn wears ice.

Then there’s spring, and life. Overnight, dandelions dot the greening land. Tiny chartreuse buds grace limbs. Cotton clouds punctuate azure above. The old grey lovely barn teems with dew-dappled Charlotte's Webs and bees and lovebirds' nests.




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly. 

October 1, 2014

Move {31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes}

Why is it that the first step is the hardest?

Sliding on the shoes, tying the laces, and opening the door to go for a run.

Picking up the pen, opening the journal, and inking out the first word.

Standing up in the pew, sliding awkwardly sideways past other churchgoers, and heading toward the altar.

It’s always the beginning that’s most difficult, most daunting. It’s like there’s negative momentum until you just move.

Maybe it’s because within that first move is the most concentrated measure of change, and change isn’t comfortable for me.

Momentum and joy and reward do come—but only after the initial big change, the first and most daunting move.




This post is part of 31 Days of Five-Minute Free Writes, an exercise in writing a timed, prompted post every day during the month of October. For me, it's a challenge to move beyond prideful perfectionism, to write more freely, and to share more openly.