I used to follow a whole bunch of blogs. I had them all bookmarked and practically every day I would run down the list to see if anyone had posted anything new. I realized after a few months that reading about other people’s marriages and kids and houses only made me want those things more. I’ve heard about people having to step away from Facebook because they couldn’t look at the best parts of other people’s lives without feeling down about their own. I had to step away from this long list of blogs I was following because I thought that those women were out of my league. I couldn’t dream like they could or write like they could or tell funny stories like they could because I didn’t (and don’t) have a husband or kids or a house or an editor or publisher or a real website. I deleted all of my bookmarks and now there are only TWO blogs I check up on. There are another TWO that I follow on Facebook so I can see on my newsfeed when they post. So that’s a grand total of four.
One of these bloggers writes about her kids and her husband, but she writes about a lot more than that. Plus in the space between binge-blog-consumption and today, I’ve realized some things about having kids and a husband.
1. I AM SO TIRED. All day every day I hear, “Ms Suzanne,” “Ms Suzanne,” “Ms Suzanne,” from literally 90 different kids needing 90 different things. And it’s exhausting. I come home and I go to my room and I don’t want to be needed for anything until the next day. If I came home to a husband who needed things and children who needed things I would fail and scream and hide and be mean. God’s timing is perfect. Maybe one day I can handle being needed all day or maybe one day I’ll feel at peace with taking time away from being a teacher to be a family-man. Or family-woman, actually.
2. I LIKE ME-TIME. I like my time to myself. I want my time to myself. Husbands and babies mean significantly less time to yourself, or so I’ve heard. Besides, in all of this time I have for myself I can sit at Jesus’s feet, Martha-style, doing the best thing I could be doing – learning about Him and soaking it all in for those days in the future when I have things like a house and a husband and babies and I don’t have time to go to the bathroom let alone sit and think and listen and read.
So those blogs don’t draw me in as easily anymore. And I can scroll through my Facebook newsfeed getting SO PUMPED for my friends who are getting married (my freshmen/senior roommate is getting married today!! (We lived together freshmen and senior year of college and yes I just did parentheses within parentheses)) and showing off their baby bumps and their real live babies and then I can look around at my life and say, “This is nice.”
That’s not to say that if you happen to know a tall, single man who loves God and Harry Potter and speaks Spanish and wants to live in the Dominican Republic and love children and watch movies with me all day that you shouldn’t have him contact me. Wink.
Today I was reading one of those TWO blogs that I now check up on and it’s a blog that has, especially lately, been super inspiring. This is the blog. It’s written by a writer, who wrote a book. You can find it on Amazon and everything. She is also a teacher and she teaches people how to write. Which is perfect because I’m a teacher who wishes I were a writer. No. I am a writer, the same way I am a missionary – I just am, without explanation or backstory. But I am a writer who wishes I were a better writer. So Elora Nicole (the blogger) wrote the other day about the beginning of a story and getting all of the ugly words out and it was just what I needed to hear as I start yet another project. (I start a lot of projects and then lose steam and don’t get the words out fast enough and so I give up and move on to something else. I do the same with Sudoku puzzles.) I really really don’t want to give up on this one. I really really want to get all of the beginning ugly words out so that then I can start making them beautiful. What she wrote was just what I needed to hear.
Then today she wrote about desire, about declaring what we want. (And by today I mean two days ago but I just read it today because I am no longer a slave to the blog-world.) I clicked on “comments” in order to post my own and I started shouting through the keyboard I WANT I WANT I WANT. And I think it’s totally okay to declare what I want because if I don’t I’ll never work for it. If I don’t admit that these are the things I want, I’ll never admit that the only thing keeping me back from getting those things is fear fear fear. I thought that Elora Nicole probably didn’t want me shouting at her via her comments, so I clicked me way over here to write, you know, because I am a writer, about what I want. I promise not to shout too loudly.
I want my dad to become a Christian. I want him to spend eternity in heaven with Jesus and I want him to know right now today the JOY and COMFORT and PEACE that come from choosing God’s will over our own.
I want to want that for every single person on this planet. I want to care about people’s eternity’s more than the right now.
I want to write a book that people read and enjoy and recommend to other people. I want to make money off of that book and off of what I write because I want to be able to live life without ever having to go on deputation to ask people I don’t know for money. I want to tell at least one of the stories that is inside of me and I want to believe that it’s good and worth writing and worth reading.
I want to speak and understand Spanish better.
I want to show people who Jesus is by the way I live my life. I want people to know that you can be a Christian and have tattoos and dance and hang out with gay people. I want people to know that you can be a Christian and struggle and ask questions. I want people to know that you CAN’T be a Christian without loving God and loving others. I want to know who Jesus is so I can show Him to others.
I want to lead people.
I want to follow my gut even when it’s hard.
I want to share all of my stuff. I want to give stuff away more. I want to be known for generosity without fear of being taken advantage of. I want to be smart about being an American woman living in the Dominican Republic.
I want to create things with my own two hands more often.
I want to breathe in the ocean more.
What do YOU want? Declare it. It’s freeing. And empowering. Plus I’m all about living with intentionality and if you don’t know what you want, you can’t be very intentional about getting it. What do you want?