For me, this whole semester can be defined by one word: gratitude. In the midst of the good and bad of the past four months, I find myself grateful. I’m grateful for the little things, like friends who like the same shows on Netflix or brothers who pick up the phone to call me on a Thursday night. I also find myself thankful for the big things like internship opportunities for the summer or the chance to attend a writing conference.
Today, I find myself grateful for readers.
I’m overwhelmed with thankfulness for the journey that brought me to this point. I’m thankful that a teacher encouraged the third grade me to continue writing. I’m grateful that friends and family spent hours encouraging me to write the stories that played over and over again in my head. I’m thankful that my parents caught the vision. That they support me in daring to dream some crazy dreams. I’m grateful that a friend encouraged me to share my blog with the world, that he pushed and pushed until I finally pressed the share button. And I’m thankful for you, my reader, that you’ve come to read the words that float from my brain to my finger tips.
Sometimes these words feel cluttered. They feel misplaced. They feel all kinds of weird. But sometimes they feel perfect. They feel right. They feel like I’m doing myself justice, that I’m allowing myself to be me.
And ultimately that’s how I hope it is for you too. I hope that sometimes you read my words and wonder why everything feels strange. I hope that you question some of what I write, that it provokes questions and conversation. I hope that my words get stuck in your brain, that you have to wonder why I wrote what I wrote. And I hope that sometimes you read my words and everything clicks. I hope that things make sense, that they inspire you to take a step down a winding path. Ultimately, I hope you read my words and notice that there’s something different, that I’m motivated by something deeper than bylines and book contracts.
Because these aren’t my words. Anyone who talks to me understands that I struggle with words. Just yesterday my old boss told me that he’s usually confused by 50% of the things that come out of my mouth. Somehow, when these words hit paper, they make sense. They make sense to me, and 80% of the time they even make sense to the reader. Today I am grateful that God gave me this gift, that he gives me the courage to untangle all the messy thoughts in my brain.
Thank you. Thank you for reading, for sharing posts with others. Thank you for clicking on links, for sharing some of your precious time with me. I’ve always been told that writing is a lonely job. At times it can be. Other times readers remind me that it’s not as lonely as it could be.