through the eyes of a nomad

It's been quite a ride so far - good but quite. Challenges I never thought about before, now face me on a daily basis: washing clothes for two people, cooking dinner every night, sharing a bed with someone who is 6'5", etc. Surprisingly, keeping my own house has been exciting. I have an extreme desire to keep it spotless - especially the kitchen. Married life is great - I highly suggest it.

My true purpose for writing is this. I'm struggling and have been for quite sometime.

A few months ago, one of the ministers at First Baptist Church of Hendersonville, Tenn., preached about "naming" one's self. In a nutshell, he went on to explain that he has named himself "manipulative," because he had a person in his past accuse him of that. Over time, he (with the enemy's help) convinced himself that he is, indeed, manipulative. Knowing this person, that is one of the last words I would ever use to describe this genuine, God-fearing man.

I realized during this sermon, that I too have named myself. My writing doesn't measure up. No matter what you or anyone tells me, I do not and will not measure up. Someone I once held to the highest regard paid me these hurtful words. From that moment on - almost a year and a half ago - I have lived with this statement: I don't measure up. Why does ONE person's statement have this effect on me? I wish I knew the answer to this question. I've pondered it on many, many occasions and sought the counsel of friends. They all have encouraged me to write again. But what if I can't? What if what this person said is true? I've wanted to be a writer since I was 14 years old. I knew I'd never make the "big bucks," but I didn't care, I lived to write. I am not writing this blog to complain, I am writing this for me. I've been encouraged by many, some whom I've worked with, that I need to write again.

So this is me, writing for - well, me.

The idea of blogging makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. I hate that feeling because when I'm vulnerable with someone it leaves me wide open to get hurt. It also leaves me wide open for Satan to remind me that "I don't measure up." I think it will take me years to overcome the hurt I've carried from those words, but I've healed some. I know I have.

I recently applied for a job as a staff writer at a publishing house in Nashville. For those who know me, that is a big deal, as I thought I would never write again once leaving Richmond - not because I didn't want to, but because no one would want me. I received an email from the publishing house saying they had received more than 300 resumes for the position and that they'd be in contact with me if they were interested. I knew for sure they'd eliminate me because I could never "measure up" to their standards, expectations and desires.

A week later I received a call requesting me to come in for an interview. Most would feel honored to be chosen out of 300, but I was terrified. I knew for sure they'd see the neon label flashing across my forehead stating "I don't measure up."

But this was different. I realized in the interview that I could do everything the job required, and I could do it knowledgeably. I walked out of the interview feeling somewhat confident - something I haven't felt in a long time. I want to write again. I want to prove that I do, can and will measure up.

I am in a valley, it's not pretty. I'm staring up at a mountain that is smocked in opaque cloud cover. The only way to see what is through the clouds is to climb up. The mountain is steep, but I know I can make it. I have to remind myself that I can make it.

Please pray for me as I struggle to overcome this hurtful name I have been given. I don't want to be known as the one who doesn't measure up. I want to write and use this talent God has given me. Pray for me to gain confidence in my craft and for me to completely forgive my name-giver. Pray that if it's the Lord's will, that I get this job. Pray that I will be able to use this situation for God's glory.