I Should Do This

It has been on my heart to get back into writing.

This is not a recent nudging. Since 2019 I have journals where I documented this exact feeling, the quiet but persistent knowing that God was calling me to write more. This year it became a recurring theme, louder than before, and yet somehow writing remained the one thing I could never quite find time for.

I have become skilled at doing a lot of things while not actually doing anything at all. Skilled at creating amazing timelines and structures that look impressive and lead exactly. I am gifted in administration. I know how to build a plan. What I have also become, without fully realizing it, is skilled at avoidance. Doing the necessary things, yes, but carefully selecting which necessary things to prioritize so the one thing that truly matters stays just out of reach.

I have asked myself why. Why do you keep doing this?

Sometimes the avoidance is intentional. More often, it is not. It is as if my mind quietly decided, without my full permission, to make avoidance a routine. And routines, once established, do not need much maintenance. They just run. So I kept choosing the things I was already good at, staying comfortable, staying safe, telling myself I was being productive while carefully sidestepping the work I knew I was actually capable of.

I also lost something in a previous season. I used to be fearless about this. Bold. I did not overthink it, I just moved. But instead of recognizing that season of stillness for what it was, a temporary rest, I parked there. I beat myself up for not being who I used to be instead of charting a new course for who I was becoming. And when I finally decided it was time to move again, I brought all of those heavy thoughts with me, carrying them close like something I could not put down, letting them whisper that the version of me who once moved boldly was gone.

She was not gone. She was just resting.

Here is the other thing. Writing comes easily to me, which is part of why avoiding it made a certain kind of sense to my mind. Because I know there is purpose in it. Deep purpose. And the purpose is weight. So my mind did what minds do when something feels too significant: it found reasons to delay. I don't have time. What is the point if you are not going to share it? There are more important things. I knew the truth, and I chose to look the other way anyway.

But not anymore.

I will not ignore this any longer. I will walk with purpose, God has called me to even when I do not immediately understand where it is leading. I will write daily. I will cultivate the habit and trust that growth will follow. I will be consistent, and I will be dedicated to the art of words, because this gift was not given to me to sit unopened, it's a God-sized call to obedience.

So here I am, May 1st, choosing to begin again with intention. Choosing to show up on the page and stay there. I am holding myself accountable, out loud, in writing, which feels fitting.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it.