There aren’t many things I’m willing to be defined by.
I’ll own up to “awkward” and “slow runner” and “takes too many pictures.”
But there are things that I have a much harder time claiming, often because I don’t see it in myself or because if I speak it out loud, then what?
It becomes real?
I have to own it?
I can’t back down, think about it some more, and then later decide it isn’t me?
There’s this thing I do every day. I’m surrounded by my peers, some with their heads down or their backs leaning against the wall, and we hold a pencil or a pen and we do this thing, this all-too-common thing.
Notes for classes, cards to each other, bullet point lists.
We do it all the time and never think anything of it.
Yet I came to this space and pull up a blank page only to find the words stop. They flow up and pour into my mouth but no matter how much I try, my lips are sealed shut and the words are stopped up.
Sometimes I come here and my heart pours red out onto a page until I come to the last sentence and realize I haven’t been breathing, my heart out there spread open about to explode.
And so I wonder, where is the difference between the note taking and the online writing?
Yesterday I sat in a class of near-strangers and we talked about our call to ministry. We partnered up and as the words came out I realized that writing is ministry.
And then they asked. My partner, not realizing that I don’t talk about my blog, spoke up saying, “Well, Kaitlyn writes. That’s her ministry.” My best friend spoke up from behind my right shoulder saying, “Yeah! She has a blog and you should all definitely read it! It’s great!”
Cue the awkward.
I’m pretty sure my face turned ten different shades of red as my teacher asked the name of my blog.
But the four words came out strong, despite the thoughts flying around inside.
It just takes one.
I believe in it and I believe in this calling, no matter how many read or what they say. So I may turn red or duck my head but my voice will carry.
It just takes one.
It took me years to claim it and an (in)courage post to finally realize it, but I’ve attached that name to my being.
No one else can tell my stories. They may seem mundane or ordinary, boring or no big deal… but they’re my stories and only I can tell them. So I do. I will.
This is my promise to you, that as long as He calls me to encourage and minister here, I will speak up and stand up when the world pushes me to quiet down and sit down.
I will love much and love well, believing that He is Faithful to complete the work.
I will share my messy with you so that in your messy you will feel less alone, like there is a hand to hold.
I will encourage your words and see His glory in your story.
I promise to love you in the hard chapters and point to the One who is the true Author, reminding you that He is writing a best-seller in you.
Keep on writing, writer girl. There is more to say.