I have spent more hours than I care to admit trying to figure out how to put my words out there for the world to see. I am not that old but I am OLD SCHOOL.. I know how to use my smart phone and I’m pretty sure I am not even taking advantage of 75% of what it has to offer because I don’t care enough to learn. I can call, I can text, and I can take 1,700 pictures and videos of my children and cats. That’s all I need.
So here I am, finally writing the first entry to my first blog. Well not really my first blog. My first one had 1/2 a million visitors (is that even a lot in blog land?) and it was strictly for my son who was battling childhood brain cancer. It was an instant blog for people with sick children to update on their kid’s progress. But I used it as therapy. That’s the time in my life I realized how cathartic writing was for me. Back then, I wrote in survival mode. My fingers translated my heart while typing the words I couldn’t say and didn’t know I was feeling. And I also didn’t edit. At all. I could barely remember anything but the necessities of the day let alone hitting spell check or fixing grammar. Even so, my point got across to thousands of strangers of all faiths who were joined in agreement and prayerful hope that my son would be healed.
I hope to do better this time with my editing. But truly, I write how I speak and sometimes I speak in run on sentences or fragments. So you’ll just have to learn my “Spring Speak”. My kids all call it “speaking Mom”. Most of the time I jumble my words together or the wrong word flies out, just trying to get them out of my mouth fast enough before the kids stop listening. I only have 4 seconds to convey my thoughts!
I once had a friend from high school visit me 18 years later, and ask if I’d lived somewhere else besides our hometown because I developed an accent. I explained that NO, not only had I never moved to anywhere cool with accents, but my children did this to me!!!
So here I am with 30 minutes left to either keep typing (heavenly) or eat lunch (SO hungry) before I go pick up one of my 6 kids from school and start the evening grind. So that means I have to snap out of my tunnel vision and “Mom”. I’m still in my pajamas. Yesterdays makeup is sprinkled all over my face. I’m pretty sure I haven’t put on deodorant…
I want to do it all. I want to date my husband, spend time with my kids, paint pictures, write poetry and music, sing in worship bands, and sit on a mountain somewhere in the silence and take in the beauty and colors of this life that God created for me… The beauty that I couldn’t fully absorb for nearly half my life due to depression. But most of all? I want to bring people to Jesus. I want to help them heal like He healed me. I want them to see the colors again…
If you’re tempted to think I’m someone you can’t relate to because ‘I Love Jesus and want to shout it from the mountain tops’, (true story) and you’re wondering if we have anything in common; please note: I’m painfully human. Pretty much all the mistakes I made in the first 3/4 of my life, pointed me to the only One who could make me new. So hold tight. The pieces of my heart are many, and maybe after you’ve heard parts of my story you can begin to see the bigger picture of how amazing God is.
Peace to you,
Spring
Fumbling For Joy 