The Real Deal
The world I live in isn't pristine. I'm not surrounded by fluffy pillows and clean white furnishings. My work space isn't cushy or secluded or filled with pale pink flowers, classical music and soft light. There's no creamy coffee in a new looking mug with an inspirational cursive saying printed on it. And I don't pad around in flowing linen pants with bare feet until I curl up in a sunny window seat to gaze out onto the vast countryside as I let my thoughts run until the perfect blog post suddenly comes to mind where I can then hop up and spend the rest of my lovely afternoon thoughtfully typing away with manicured fingers fluttering across a fancy laptop full of stock photos, fancy typesets and a professional webpage.
My day-to-day is dirt, poop, sweat and dog hair filled. Some days I'm covered with calf slobber while swatting flies and hoping there's no chiggers crawling up my pant legs.
The space I choose to write may be a rocking chair on the back porch, a tailgate or a reclaimed desk with bad paint and a chair I found in the barn.
Room temperature water in an insulated tumbler gets refilled twenty times a day and thus helping me keep my joints loose with a thousand trips to the potty.
Most days I'm accompanied by two or three dogs as I pound out what's on my heart in between their snoring or begging to let them out. Two guinea pigs shuffle around behind me and I can see most of the remaining herd from the window as I wait for my computer to catch up with my typing.
I may or may not upload my thoughts onto a public venue...
This is real life for me. And I try to share it in a way that's not as boring as it really is.
Some days I struggle with making my words brief and to the point so anyone who might be inclined to read them will actually make it to the point of my message. But most days, I barely keep my fingers going fast enough to keep up with my mind. And my heart.
I'm not perfect. How many times can I say this? I don't memorize scripture, I can barely remember yesterday. But I know the truth of Christ's love.
Words slip from my mouth that I'm not proud of. I'm slowly understanding what it means to let go of anger and ask for His hand in handling situations. That includes handling myself and the way I feel and react to them. Thankfully He is patient and I'm forgiven.
And I'm trying, every day, to walk with Him more. To learn more of what He has planned for me. To learn more of His word, His teachings and His will. Psalms 25 ..."(4) Shew me thy ways, O LORD; teach me thy paths. Lead me in thy truth, and teach me..."
BECAUSE-as hard as I try to go a different route, He always pulls me back. -Guide my every step, Lord. "Lead me in Your righteousness and make Your way straight before my face." Psalms 5:8.
That's how I need it- In my face!
There are plenty of things I do that I could write about, and I've tried: quilting, cooking, reading, crochet, being a ranchy wife, cleaning hardwood floors, purging the kids playroom, mowing the lawn, planting fields. I used to have a huge garden, bees, make stuff out of junk. There are plenty of hunting trips and interesting people I've met along the way I could share stories about, but the one thing that keeps lighting my writing fire is Christ. I want to be reckless in my sharing! ...and that's not like me at all. But it's totally like Him.
Every single day that I give to Him, He makes me want to share more about Him with others. He makes me want to be reckless in my pursuit of Him and in sharing His truth!
"Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. A-men." St. Matthew 28:19-20
When Jesus commanded them, He commanded descendants thereafter-including us.
Now-time to brush my crazy hair and go out into public. That's a scary thought; not the hair- the public!
