Good Morning, Everyone,
My husband, Christian, has been gently prodding me to return to blogging. I’ve missed it and have struggled to return. I’ve also sought to understand my hesitancy to continue.
Over the weekend, I had the privilege of talking with both Christian and my friend, Kerri, about all of this, trying to wrestle through the muck and search out the reason. My thanks to you both – the answer has become crystal clear.
I first began blogging while my children were hospitalized, viewing the blog as a necessary tool of communication throughout their stays. It quickly became the go-to place for friends and family to stay in the loop as things unfolded, sometimes at a rapid-fire pace.
But it became much more than that to me.
Unaware, I began to share beyond the critical updates and information, eventually allowing myself to bleed all over the screen. God used those 15-20 minutes a day to help me process the painful world around me, and in turn, the shared experience of my family’s journey allowed others to connect with an intimate part of themselves, a place perhaps rarely traveled but yearning to be known.
Feelings, fears, questions . . . nothing structured or pre-packaged, simply words from a mother’s heart, a desperate woman trying to make sense of it all, a human being trying to survive in the midst of raging storms.
Readers seemed drawn to my passionate approach to life and the way I processed each day’s events. They liked knowing I’m not perfect and have to work hard to clean up my messes. They stuck with me through not only the happenings but also the details of how God carried us through every minute of those tumultuous times.
The initial audience consisted of some friends and family, but many readers were previously unknown to us, wonderful people who came to care deeply about my husband and family, our circumstances and outcomes.
My audience cared about me. And I them. It was a relationship, not an info-blog.
I began drinkingfromthewell.com with more of a practical, help-centered focus for families, desiring to assist people of all ages and life-stages face a variety of challenges. While I plucked out useful lessons I’d learned and passed on tools I’d gleaned, I felt stifled as a writer. I found myself struggling to stay motivated and carve out time to post regularly, which stood in stark contrast to the days I looked forward to writing.
I think it’s partly because the type of writing people were drawn to on my CarePages blog wasn’t geared toward providing practical tips, developing a following, or building a writing platform as all of the blogger books recommend doing from the ground up.
It wasn’t me. I like to touch the emotions of my readers while sharing mine, carefully cultivating a caring and valued relationship.
I also don’t think I was ready. A lot more healing needed to take place before I could deal with the aftermath of the past several years. We’d all experienced post-traumatic stress in various ways, and I think writer’s block was a symptom of mine. Perhaps it was silly for me to try developing a new blog so soon, but the writer in me longed to run free. After all the years of having no time or energy to type, I found myself paralyzed when the moment finally arrived.
I couldn’t let myself bleed while in desperate need of countless transfusions. I like to bleed. I need to be able to allow my thoughts, feelings, emotions, and desires spill down every page, dousing them crimson as they color the sunrises and sunsets of life.
But God has done an amazing work – in New Jersey, of all places! He moved us here, we have no doubt, to heal us, to grow us closer together and closer to Him. We stand on the other side of the mountain today, grateful, full of love, and eager to encourage others as we journey on, one day at time.
I invite you on our new, or shall I say continuing, ever-evolving journey, here at drinkingfromthewell.com. Thank you for your great patience with me.
Especially my husband, who has often asked, “Haven’t you posted already?”
My response tonight will be, “It’s ablog time!”
Good to be back in the saddle.
Much love to you and yours,