The Struggle to Make More
It’s been far too long since I sat down to blog.
Honestly, it’s been far too long since I journaled regularly. Like, more than 10 years.
Some days I work hard, I do all my stuff, I see all my people, I put forth all my me, and I lay down at the end of the day and feel unsettled. I feel not-myself. I wonder who I became, how I became him, and what changed.
As the subject of blogging came across my e-mail feed, it resonated with me: I haven’t just written in what feels like forever.
I think, for so long, I was in a poor socio-economic way, and I let myself be consumed in entrepreneurship podcasts, books, e-mails, online trainings, etc. and I got so consumed with the idea of blogging as a way to build an audience and make some money from somewhere out there that I forgot about the pure form of it: just writing.
I’m on my way to deliver a coworker and his wife to the airport; they’re heading back to their home state to bury his father. We had a small miscommunication about the time I needed to pick them up (I was way early), so I decided to run to a coffee shop and be a stereotypical laptop-in-the-coffee-shop guy, and it hit me: I haven’t done this since college. 2009. When I was writing a lot and loved the ambiance of a warmly-lit cafe and the clatter of cups and silverware in the background. I was a writer. Heck, I was a published author (scholarly journal, but hey, it counts).
Then I traveled. I buried myself in music, lyrics, listening, performing, failing at relationships, starting new ones, getting married, losing a baby, having kids, being the husband, being the dad, being a good salesman, being a good worker, being a good worshipper… a good leader… a good man, right? I think? I lay in bed night after night wondering if I’ve ever made it, because something’s missing in me, and I can’t put a finger on it.
So I’m going to start writing again. For me. I don’t expect or necessarily want anyone to ever read these letters to myself and to God, but they need to be available. They need to be made. I need to make more, because there’s something in the process of creation that resonates with me. Words are not enough, but they’re the way there.
Father, humble me. Remind me of my first loves, the things that you brought life to that I have neglected. Make me new by making me old. Make me wise by making me new. Make me whole by emptying me. Make me Yours all over once more. I love You. Thank You. Amen.
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