It’s been hard to put down words to my recent months. I’ve worried too much about how my words look instead of the truth they hold. But here’s a bit of my true honest heart.
I’ve sat down to write a post on how hard it’s been for me to write at all on here almost a hundred times. I think there are just too many reasons to even comprehend an answer. I’ve had hopes about where this could all go but somehow writing at this time in my head just doesn’t seem to fit an “easy route,” or “a path that leads somewhere” which is painstakingly frustrating to continue dragging along with me. For some reason, I still have it in the back of my mind. Jesus and I have a lot more growing to do to let go of these things that end up holding me back from living.
All the thoughts of failure cross my mind in this seemingly simple and fun hobby. But somehow I’ve compared myself too much to make it as pure and simple again. Previous Thoughts: “nobody reads much of anything nowadays” “even when I share my posts it’s still strange that I write about my life, especially to make it known to people I know and see” and “I don’t think I’d even want to read about what I have to say.”
But I’ve decided… I, me, would like to see what I could do. Where some hope and a loose grasp on these stupid and ridiculous cares could get me.
So here I am, hello.
Trying to start again. Not new, but again.
to return to a childlike mind.
It’s hard to grasp what I’d like to say in this post. It’s funny that I’ve found that I like to write these a little more for myself than others. It’s crazy how I can go back and see who I was at that moment. I think that’s why I like to write more of these what’s happening posts, other than posts sharing about things I love and my relations to them. (even though I do find joy in those too.)
I’d really like to be more open and truthful on pretty much everything in my life. I’ve grown to coat everything in an almost not lying but not full way.
There are many things I’ve lived with though that I believe could be needed somewhere.
where I’m going.
I’d like to follow the truth, sometimes it’s hard to decipher for yourself, but it’s a track you can count on, a place for growth.
growth, growth, growth.
I talk about it a lot but, maybe it’s because I struggle to understand it so much. I believe in every season you grow a little more. It’s just living. It’s just time.
But not in every season you see your growth. You get stuck. You get set back, or worse, you set yourself back. You find yourself in a loop. It might be fear, laziness, addiction, the fear of addiction to laziness, whatever it is.
It’s not easy to disconnect from. You stay a little.
Some seasons aren’t meant for growth you can see or acknowledge. but you’re still growing.
And you are still living right, even if it may be unfortunate what may be happening.
some truth to hold onto.
I don’t think I am lost, not even a little. I just stubbornly want to know everything at once.
But I do know… I am in His hands. He’s right here. Forever.
“We are a tired people. We can find places to rest but never a home to stay. But we are invited. Come to His home. You’ve been known forever and will be known until the end. Do not worry about your loneliness. Open the Door. He is in every room.
– Concealed, by Ireland Rose Rogers.
Thanks for reading my friends. I hope this motivation to write especially if only a few reads continues to come up to the surface.