People are probably so bored of reading about how much I love my boys or how much they destroy the house. Maybe, perhaps? They're sick of reading about me. About the sometimes ridiculous things expressed through each tap of these keys.
"My Heart To My Fingertips" wouldn't that be a great blog name? Why didn't I think of that sooner?!
Should I make this blog more about me? Should I capture my face more here? Try to etch my escaping youth here in cyber time?
The cursor blinking as I lay in bed. A toddler at my side as peaceful as a toddler gets.
I was at a loss until I read a question from two bloggers I admire.
"Who do you speak for?"
What a great, thought provoking, inspiring question.
I speak for them. I speak for me. I speak for my heart. I can only hope that those reading get an honest look into the lives of an imperfect family trying to wade the waters of this sometimes overwhelming, overbearing, impossibly perfect sea.
The tides are high, powerful, and nowhere near survivable under our own capabilities at times.
Cool and calm and reflective at others.
In the middle we ride the rolling waves to the peaks and back down into the valleys each and every day. Sometimes each and every hour.
I really can't think of a better description of life, our life, than the metaphor of the sea.
It's the life we live. The dreams we tell. And the power unseen behind it all.
I speak for me.
I speak for what I love.
What I hate.
What breaks my heart and makes it whole again.
I speak for what I can't comprehend.
I speak to keep it all in perspective.
I speak to help process what is running through my mind.
I speak for the love that bounces from one wall to the next and flows out the windows. Love in every form.
To hold myself accountable.
I speak with knowing the fact that I don't know who all is reading or what struggles they face. Maybe my voice can make a subtle difference in their lives. Encourage or inspire them to be better even if they get that from one of my most negative mind spewing posts. Maybe my words, my small family blog will make a difference to someone out there.
This life is hard. It is easy. It is not perfect, but it so is. I want to do my part in capturing it. Documenting it. Leaving something for my boys, for the ones that come behind us so they know. So they know that there are trials. That there is pure joy and happiness. That life rips you apart and God is there to pick you back up, piece you together, pats off your bottom, and stands you on your feet again stronger, different than the last time your feet felt your weight. And if your path isn't to be felt by your feet then there is a reason and we have to trust that God has got it.
I speak in hopes of making my family, my husband, proud.
I speak for me. I speak for them.