Who knew it would be more difficult to write a blog after arriving back home?

Over four months have passed since my return home from traveling, and life is unique and interesting. Major realization: Writing a book is nothing like writing a blog post.

Here are some nuggets of wisdom I’ve gathered four months later:

God is still my Provider. If you followed this blog during my time on the road with Tim and Lynn, this was the most major theme. God’s provision over them awed me on a daily basis. Since being home, He has continued to show me His faithfulness in providing my every need in the most unconventional, over-the-top, abundant ways.

God knows what He’s doing. I recently came upon Jeremiah 29 in The Message. A chapter I know well in an unfamiliar version. Verse 10 says, “I’ll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for.” It’s so elementary, so basic. God knows what He’s doing. I’m realizing at this phase in life that it’s not about learning something new, it’s about knowing more deeply what I have already learned.

God is a Storyteller. Each day of listening to stories, rough-drafting stories, and reading stories constantly reminds me that life is story. Etched in the word “history” is the profundity of the mystery of the world, hidden in plain sight–that this whole thing is His Story. We can’t escape Him. We can’t crawl off the page at our own whim. He is Author and we are Character. What a blessed invitation it is to join Him in a small glimpse of this role.

Perfectionism is my worst enemy. Recently I listened to a podcast from a writer’s conference. At one point the speaker plainly stated, “I hate writing. But I love having written.” In sorting daily through voice recordings, a stack of journals, and notes while compiling rough drafts of individual stories, my inner perfectionist is asserting herself in tumultuous upheaval. I don’t like that the perfect doesn’t emerge at the initial outset. I struggle with being more preoccupied with my disgust of that layer of crap oozing out first than merely moving it aside in order to get to the good stuff. My perfectionism makes me hate writing. It’s only after the drudgery of sorting through the crappy and the mediocre that I can finally arrive at something potent and fresh.

Faithfulness is my one pursuit. Perhaps this one sounds pious, but for all my fellow control freaks out there, this one takes the cake in difficulty. The art of remaining faithful on a daily basis when all you want to do is grab every bull by its horns, beating the details into perfectionistic, unrealistic, micromanaged submission requires every ounce of weighty death to self. Any intermingling of self with the work of the Holy Spirit renders an unbearable struggle that results in impossible faithfulness. I lie on the altar dead, yet alive. Having died, yet being raised. If it sounds morbid, it is. Yet it’s a fuller life than any other. He is the Faith-Depositer which makes me Faith-Full.

Of course this is no exhaustive list, but rather a brief snapshot inside my mind and heart the last few months.

I hope to get better at updating in the coming weeks. If there are any specific questions anyone would like to see me answer via blog post regarding my writing process or anything really, I would love to hear them.

Thank you all so much for taking the time to read the words that I write. In this over-stimulated information age, it is an honor to have your attention in any capacity.