Little, Old Me

     In a significant ice storm this weekend, my area and so many other places were without power. For a little while, they were only predicting that the power would be back tonight. My first thought when I heard that was how on earth do I write my blog then? Thankfully, our power came back yesterday morning and I am warm, clean, and I have battery on my laptop so I don't have to write on my phone or postpone because writing on my phone sucks. Alas, I've been up since before six and have worked an eight hour shift, so my brain is not as it should be. I know that it's supposed to take a little while to adjust to a work environment and it's not like I had no idea what hard work was like before starting but it's definitely different. I'm tired a lot of the time and sore even though it's not hard labor. It feels like I've lost a lot of the time I had to do the things that I really love, which I have. I read 11 books in January while this month I've read maybe four. I do miss it and my writing. Unfortunately, I'm not being paid for it yet so the job will have to stay and I will have to get used to it. I don't want to complain though, I'm glad to have money coming to me and it's nice to be busy again. The world slowed down last March and for me, it's catching up again. Whether or not it's a good thing remains to be seen but, here we are. 

    Is it silly to just want to write about myself? I had no plan when I started this blog but I'm genuinely proud about my unconsciously chosen topic. I am very passionate about being a Christian and while that is the first thing I identify myself as, there is more to me. Sometimes I'm surprised by all that I feel and think about. I have so many random interests. While I am obsessed with tea, I'm also very good at making it and forgetting it. I bake a decent amount, though not as much as I want to. I have a great fascination with taking pictures of the sky, and I really am passionate about words, both others and my own. I don't like writing about myself though. In my preparation for pitching and submitting, I discovered the tedium that is writing an author bio. It's surprisingly difficult to write about yourself from a position of neutrality. You can't be self deprecating or egotistical but you still have to write about yourself in a way that helps the reader get to know the person who wrote the book they're reading. Writing the book was easy, writing the summaries, bios, and queries is the hard part and I'm praying that it will be worth it. It's scary to think that I could actually be published one day. I've been dreaming about it for years but the more I dig into it, the more I start to doubt myself. I've been writing for so long now that by now even I can say that it's good and I'm passionate about most of the stories I tell but it's another thing to start sharing those stories. I understand the publication process well enough to know that rejection is inevitable and while I hope that I'll be strong when the time comes, I'd rather not face it at all, but I suppose the same is true of most human beings. I know that if you have the opportunity, you should go after your dreams but the closer I get, the bigger mine seems. 

    I've been thinking a lot lately about calling and purpose. I've talked about this a lot on here, I know. Very often, I feel so confident, like I know what I'm supposed to do and believe I can do it but then something happens and I get stuck in my head and I feel so small. How many other people have manuscripts sitting in their documents folder, dreaming to be published? What makes me worth taking a chance on? After all, I'm just me. It's so easy for me to believe in something for someone else but harder for me to do that for myself. I can stand on my soapbox and proclaim that you were loved enough to die for and believe it with everything in me and then not extend the same kindness to myself. I wish I could go back in time to the first moment I started doubting myself and stop it before it even happened. I wish it was easier for me to be brave and to love selflessly but I'm so aware of my faults and my humanity. 

    Sometimes selfishness isn't obvious. It can look like doing something for your own gain, taking advantage of people and situations, or being egotistical. I think that it can also look like holding yourself back or choosing not to talk about yourself "because you're not special." We make the decision because we think that's what's best for us and that isn't always the case. It's not fun being with someone who's self deprecating all the time or won't accept help freely and honestly offered. It can be so easy to hide behind our faults and use it as an excuse but how much do we limit ourselves when we do that? How much more could we do and accomplish if we decided that our lives and the things that we do are worth something?

    One of the reasons I am a Christian is because it's one of the few things that actually promises that your life is worth something. I've talked about Romans 8:28 that says God will work all things for the good. God also promises to love us in all things and all seasons, to extend grace and mercy when we need it. In 1 Peter 2:9 calls us God's chosen people. In some ways, it doesn't matter what I think about myself because in the end, there is still someone who promises to love me and forgive me. He loves me for all that I am, the baker, reader, writer, and dreamer. He loves me for my humanity and my faults. As often as I doubt myself, He's right there with the promise that it will all work for good. I want the security and promise of a plan. No matter how small I feel or how little I get done in a day, there's hope for me to fall back on. It's astounding to think that little, old me can make a difference in the world but that promise is there. 

    Anyways, I hope you liked this. I know it's at least a little different from what I usually do but like I said, I wanted to do it. Thank you so much for reading and I apologize for being a little late. 

Yours Truly,

Rey