Today is day twenty-five in a thirty-one day writing challenge that I’m doing. My husband was the one who really forced encouraged me to do it. I love and appreciate that he is so supportive of my writing. And for the most apart, I have enjoyed the process. It has pushed me. It has stretched me. It has caused me to think about things.
It has left me weary.
My intention when I first started writing my blog was to offer encouragement for those difficult things we all face, whether it’s following a dream, parenting, marriage, relationships, or the stuff that floats around in our heads. Life is hard. I wanted readers to know they aren’t alone.
To that end, a lot of my writing comes from things that are on my heart or situations I have or am encountering. I’m finding that the process of sharing my heart, while something I believe is beneficial and satisfying, is also draining. Which means, here I am twenty-five days in and thinking, I’m done. I’m empty.
I’m in desperate need of filling.
Tonight, I find myself crying out to God to breathe new life into my dry and weary bones; to make my heart like a well watered garden. He tells me that He’s my Good Shepherd; He knows what I need and will give it to me if I ask. So I ask, knowing that right now, He’s the only one who can help…
