So I turn a half of a century soon. Yes, I am a woman who is not afraid to tell you my age. I’m just so happy I can now remember how old I am.
Many moons ago, during my 3rd pregnancy, I came to the sudden realization I couldn’t remember my age. It was after a monthly check-up and the receptionist was making some sort of appointment for me. She asked my age and I blanked. Instead, I told her what year I was born so she could figure it out. I’m helpful like that.
She tried to comfort me by saying, “You lose brain cells with each pregnancy.” Well, that made me feel all kinds of better. And, apparently those lost brain cells have made a triumphant come back. Let’s pause a moment while we celebrate the lost has been found…until I forget what I did yesterday because that hasn’t already happened.
For years (and if I could remember how many I’d tell you) there has been something I’ve wanted to do. I actually remember wanting to do this as a child but FEAR. It requires stepping out and if you know me personally we all know how great I do that little number.
Every time I would hear a sermon or read an article/post about doing what God has planted in your heart this little word shouts in my mind. Write.
Writing is personal. My words on a page for the world or five people to read. To criticize. To enjoy. To be used by God. But, guess what I get stuck on . . . criticize.
So, I did something at an age where my face is becoming a road map telling a story with every hard-earned wrinkle. I’m not dramatic.
I entered a post for an online site who opens up submission for guests writers. Scary, I know! In fact as soon as I hit the submit button on the form I thought I was going to be sick. But, I took the step. I plunged in to what I felt God was calling me to do…even if my stomach hurt doing it.
Plus, friends who were gently pushing me with loud encouragement. I hope you, dear Reader, know what it is like to have encouraging friends.
So, I wait. I wait to find out if my post is chosen. And, waiting is all kinds of fun. But, it is the step of obedience that counts. Even if it is not chosen. I obeyed. And, that is
kind of what life is all about.
What has YOU shaking in your boots yet know God is gently nudging you?