Chronic over sharing is my spiritual gift

One thing about giving up singing was that I just didn't feel good at anything anymore.  I am functionally proficient at a lot of things, but not outstanding.  I am plain; mediocre.  And once I was swallowed by the uncertain vortex of early motherhood, my equilibrium was dashed against the rocks.  I am no one, I have longing, but no purpose.

6 years later I want to be a writer (what my mom always thought I should be by the way), and I am scared. I am scared because I am not a great writer; I suck at the revision process, I am prone to run on sentences, I use tired cliches.  I am scared because it is so vulnerable to truly want something. I am scared because I do not want to charge blindly into my own ambition again, without being sure that this is what God really wants for me.

The bible says when you become a Christian, God gives you spiritual gifts, but for so long I just felt sort of skipped over in the spiritual gift department, but then I'm left with this nagging feeling that God doesn't give you longing to be cruel.  I think He wants me to be a writer, even though I'm not fantastically witty and eloquent.  I think he wants me to be a writer because spiritual gifts are meant to bless others, and what I most want from writing is to rummage through the every day experiences of life and motherhood and tell the truth about it in a way that says we are in this mess together, in a way that exposes His strange and marvelous hand at work in our everyday experiences as women and mothers. It turns out I didn't get passed over in the spiritual gift department after all, as it happens, chronic over sharing is my spiritual gift (lucky you, right?)

I don't want this to be a pretty church girl blog with neatly wrapped advice about things I know about God, and good thing, because I don't know anything about that. I want this to be a place where you nod your head when you're reading, because you've been there; where maybe you laugh a little, and cry a little, because it is so healing not to be alone, because it is so refreshing to be real with one another and ourselves. I want this to be a place where we strip away the veneer and are exposed as real and honest women, flawed and unruly, but learning to live in His grace.