I can’t help it.

Last summer, I came to the library so often with the sole purpose of writing. And left discouraged, because I couldn’t do it. I wanted to, so badly. There was so much going on, it was overwhelming–in a good way. But I couldn’t quite seem to organize my thoughts, verbalize all of the changes that were taking place.

And today, I come to check a few things real quick, and I find myself at And I can’t help but write. Again. Another impromptu post! But I’ll take it. I don’t even know where this will go; I just know that I’m itching to write.

And what comes to mind is that this year is different. As many changes as were taking place in my life last year, this year it is I who have changed–not merely as a result of the changes that have taken place around me, but because for the first time in a long time, on a whole new level, I have allowed myself to be changed.

Okay, I guess I can put it out there now. I’m dating. Ahh! And this guy, he’s pretty cool. 🙂 But anyway, I was talking to him last night about how God will always change us, if we let Him. But He’ll never force Himself on us.

I prayed a simple prayer about two months ago–“more later” on that. 😉 But it went a little something like, “God, help me to trust You again.” And He has. Over and over and over again, to deepening levels. HE has increased my faith, and HE has changed my heart. He has implanted in me the belief that He can and will answer my prayers, according to His will. It was time I started asking with faith. And I guess I needed to come to a point where praying without believing, being tossed about like a wave (James 1:5), and everything else I was trying, simply wasn’t working anymore, and I simply couldn’t live life like that anymore. I had to come to a point, once again, where I recognized I needed changing, and that I couldn’t do that changing on my own. I needed to let Him change me. So I did. And He did. That week, I had a renewed heart. I looked forward to talking to Him, spending time in His Word–not out of drudgery or duty, because it was what I was supposed to do, but because I wanted to. He had answered my prayer, clearly and immediately, and continued to do so with other prayers I offered that week. He still does. He is faithful.

And the more I pray in faith, the more I am changed. The more my faith increases. The more I believe He is able and willing to answer my prayers. The more I am convinced of His love, mercy, goodness, and that He has my best interest at heart–even if I can’t understand it sometimes. And the more I desire that my life brings Him glory, that the answered prayers and the circumstances He allows speak of Him in a way that is undeniable, that people will be drawn to Him.

Let the change keep on coming. 🙂


Impromptu post? Okay.

I’m at the library. I came to print off some of my poems, poems that I shared with a writer friend’s writer friend, who asked for them in hard copy. Exciting things are happening.

I spoke it on a walk, breathed it out in what felt like a whisper, because it felt like I was baring my soul: “I want to be a writer.”

But a friend reminded me, “You already are.”

So, here, I write. It’s been so long, I know. I know that people aren’t necessarily hanging on the edge of their seats for my latest post, especially since it’s been so long since my last one. But I’ve been needing to write. If anything else, for me. And I have been. I just haven’t had time–blah, what an awful excuse–to package it into what I consider post-worthy form. Need to polish it up and get it just right before I release it.

But not so today. Today I sit at the library, and type, type away, with no particular message to convey, except just that I want to write, feel the need to write. And I’ll post to let you in on that, not because I feel like I’m going to send you away from your computer screen with some little nugget of encouragement or bit of truth to chew on. Except that maybe if you have a dream, it can happen. It can start right now.

I am not a published author, poet, whatever. But someone wants my poems in hard copy, wants to get them into “the right hands,” whoever those hands are. It’s happening. I am a writer. And even if she didn’t, I am still a writer, because I write.

If you sing, you’re a singer.

If you paint, you’re a painter.

If you run, you’re a runner.

Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You don’t have to be published, signed, sold, recognized. Your only recognition may be the eyes of Heaven looking on and delighting in the work of your hands, your feet. Isn’t that enough? That the Lord of glory delights in the creation of His creation, whom He designed to create?

With humility, sing, paint, run, to the best of your ability, to the glory of God. Delight in His delight in You.