I was leading a three-ring circus lifestyle, and honestly, I was a one-ring person.
I was disappearing. Three baby boys. A wildly busy household. A very-paused career.
The slow erosion of what was once my center.
“I can pull this off,” I thought. “Like that magic trick where you yank the tablecloth, and every fork, glass, plate, and centerpiece stays in place.”
I did not pull it off. And most everything that could crash crashed. Mental health. Identity. Purpose. Perspectives. Values.
Me. Who and what I was.
Amid the turmoil, on a winter day, as thick snowflakes stuck to a front picture window, a friend looked at me, “You’re really interesting. You’ve done some pretty amazing things." he said. "You could write about all this. A book.”
"You've done some pretty amazing things" he said.
My mouth slacked open. Wide open. So wide it could have fogged up that entire window.
Whom was he talking about? Me?
“Nope,” I said. “ Uh -uh. I feel like I’ve been living in a cave for the last 12 years.”
I fought the friend’s statement that January day. I did. I really tried.
But something stirred, and I went home and wrote and wrote and kept on writing.
A vision started to emerge.
Slowly, in the shadows at first, the healing started.
Then it came in fuller dimensions and colors.
There was a nudge, a still small voice….”There’s more; there’s more.” More to my story, how it can (and continues to) change, grow, and me with it. I accepted the invitation and began processing, and writing about loss, pain, trauma, depression, anxiety, and a once-terrified small, small girl.
A vision started to emerge...
My old storyline was exposed, disposed of, and replaced.
I gave up the lies I held and traded them for greater truths.
Something bad is going to happen…
God relentlessly pursues me because I am well, well-loved...therefore I am safe and can always come home.
My last 30-plus years are like diamonds--acres of them--in my own backyard, in me.
All my writing, producing, reporting, anchoring, hosting, interviewing, creating, serving, parenting…loving.
It’s rich—all of it. Nothing wasted.