If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love,
I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.

[I Corinthians 13:1, the Message]

This past weekend, I was challenged to know the why behind my writing.  Why do I take time to put words in this space?

I couldn’t answer. 

It’s why I took a hiatus a few years back.  I wanted to come back knowing my why. Yet, I didn’t.

I still somehow felt the need to come back.  To write.  No matter the numbers, no matter the stats, no matter the worldly “success.”

I just wanted to write it down.  I wanted to remember.   I needed to.  For some reason: I needed to write again.  

And as I look through my notes and chicken scratches from the Influence Conference.  I realized that I had so many action items, so many goals, so many to-do’s that needed to be checked off.  So many feelings of “the way I’m doing it isn’t good enough – I should be doing this. or that.”

So many variations of the question, “Is it worth it?”

I’ve always said that I tend to do things the Kacia way.  I like different.  I like unique.

Yet I found myself thinking “If I do what they do, I will be successful.”  “If only….then this.”

I found myself sounding like a rusty gate.  A clanging cymbal.

I just want the words I write to encourage someone, somehow.  I don’t want to be noise.  And I don’t want to hide.

But more than that, I want my priorities to be inline.  I want my husband to say that I am intentional and a wife of purpose.  I want my children to say that I was there and present.

I want my words to be a journal they can look back on – but more so, I want my life and the time spent with them to be my love letter.

I want the words I say + type to be laced with love.

 

And somehow, I pray I learn how to wrestle with the talents and dreams and ideas and goals I do have for my life.  The woman described in Proverbs 31 isn’t dumb, and she isn’t fearful.  She is intentional in every sense of the word: as a child of God, as a wife, as a mother, a friend, a business woman…

I don’t have to choose one or the other.  It’s not “be a mom and wife or follow your dreams.”  But it’s finding a balance.  It’s putting Him first. It’s putting Him before everything else.

So I pray that somehow He uses my mess.  Because it’s messy.  I am messy.

 

I’m still learning that He can make the mess beautiful.   And struggling to believe that I’m worth it. 

 

 

 

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