It's amazing what a simple challenge does to your mindset... like saying "I'm giving up soda" brought on cravings for the bubbly like I've never experienced before. Taking a once a month craving to an almost daily desire...
This is also my experience with Blog-A-Day. I sent large parts of my day in thought about this or that and then thought..."That might be a good blog."
And I wonder now, do I table some of the more interesting thoughts to explore again later in cyberspace, on a day I'm not feeling so inspired? Do I blog all my rabbit trail thoughts? Is anyone besides Stacee even going to read this stuff? :)
So I guess one of the best and most exciting parts of the grand experiment will be finding my voice. This thrills me to no end. Enough that I almost don't care if anyone besides Stacee reads this...
Once upon a time I actually considered myself, among other things, a writer. I loved to get lost in the stories and prose I'd put to paper. A lot of it full of the vain imaginings of adolescence... the raw emotion strung together to form some sort of validation for the mess that was jumbled in my head. I certainly wasn't great, but most of my non-greatness could easily be chalked up to inexperience more than lack of skill.
Then I met and fell in love with one of the greatest writers I would ever be blessed enough to know. I fell in love with him through the written word. He was, and is, incredible.
And I put down my pen. Simply laid it down and put on different title. I would never be a writer like him. I would never measure up. So I just stopped.
Seeing it all written out in front of me it seems, not just sad, but a little pathetic. Who told me I wasn't good enough? Who told me I didn't measure up? Who told me my words, thoughts, feelings, and emotion didn't matter?
No one.
Not one single person spoke those words over me, yet the enemy whispered them in my ear and I was more than happy to agree. To just assume I was less than and walk away from something I loved.
Stupid Satan.
Ridiculous me for believing it.
I guess this is why I enjoy the mere idea of a blog so much. It connects me to something that I just handed over to that thief. It gives me an opportunity to walk right into that serpents camp and reclaim what he stole from me.
What a wonder Jesus is. That He cared for a dream and passion I had let slip so far away I wouldn't have even been able to tell you they were once there.
What a passionate love He must have for me to do this thing for me.
Hmmm... that wasn't even on my list today...
This is also my experience with Blog-A-Day. I sent large parts of my day in thought about this or that and then thought..."That might be a good blog."
And I wonder now, do I table some of the more interesting thoughts to explore again later in cyberspace, on a day I'm not feeling so inspired? Do I blog all my rabbit trail thoughts? Is anyone besides Stacee even going to read this stuff? :)
So I guess one of the best and most exciting parts of the grand experiment will be finding my voice. This thrills me to no end. Enough that I almost don't care if anyone besides Stacee reads this...
Once upon a time I actually considered myself, among other things, a writer. I loved to get lost in the stories and prose I'd put to paper. A lot of it full of the vain imaginings of adolescence... the raw emotion strung together to form some sort of validation for the mess that was jumbled in my head. I certainly wasn't great, but most of my non-greatness could easily be chalked up to inexperience more than lack of skill.
Then I met and fell in love with one of the greatest writers I would ever be blessed enough to know. I fell in love with him through the written word. He was, and is, incredible.
And I put down my pen. Simply laid it down and put on different title. I would never be a writer like him. I would never measure up. So I just stopped.
Seeing it all written out in front of me it seems, not just sad, but a little pathetic. Who told me I wasn't good enough? Who told me I didn't measure up? Who told me my words, thoughts, feelings, and emotion didn't matter?
No one.
Not one single person spoke those words over me, yet the enemy whispered them in my ear and I was more than happy to agree. To just assume I was less than and walk away from something I loved.
Stupid Satan.
Ridiculous me for believing it.
I guess this is why I enjoy the mere idea of a blog so much. It connects me to something that I just handed over to that thief. It gives me an opportunity to walk right into that serpents camp and reclaim what he stole from me.
What a wonder Jesus is. That He cared for a dream and passion I had let slip so far away I wouldn't have even been able to tell you they were once there.
What a passionate love He must have for me to do this thing for me.
Hmmm... that wasn't even on my list today...
I read your blog... And writing something everyday is a good goal. some days you'll write more than others, and some days you'll be more profound, but that is okay. It is all part of the process.
What am I???? Chopped liver?????
=) I love the way you write Alexis. What a gift you have! And how awesome that the Lord can finally use your gift for His glory! I look forward to reading what the Lord will funnel through you!
Yeah, what Terri said! LOL You know that I read everyone's blog everyday, so obviously that would include yours, too. ;o) So far, so good...keep up the blogging!
I check your blog every day or two, even if you're not writing. ;) I look forward to your thoughts this month. Love you.
and that must be Satan telling yout that no one ever reads your blogs!!!! I check everyone's blogs (almost) daily to see if there is anything new... and I know that I leave way more comments on other's (that includes YOU) blogs than are left on mine... (hint: comments let the writer know that people are reading your blog)