This is one of those rambling posts. I promised myself I'd do 365 days of blogging, meaning I'd write publicly every day from January 8th, 2018 to January 8th, 2019. Whew! This has been a whirlwind experience! Something about journaling publicly holds me a certain kind of accountable...to the world and to myself. I started on the 8th by venting my very raw emotions. I was tired. I was hurting. I was healing. I was trying to process the past 18 months of my life--trying to unpack the roller-coaster ride that is "stepping into my calling." And I'm exhausted!
There are great days--days where I've written some of the most profound analyses on life and love, on pushing through pain and surviving black womanhood. There have been days when nothing seemingly profound wants to come out. There are posts filled with honesty--like admitting to the world that I'm a working woman who desires to have a baby, with or without a partner [Read Here]. There are posts filled with covert ramblings--not dishonest writing, per se, but the profound and profane had to be hidden beneath coded language because my privacy is still important.
Today, I'm tired. Nothing amazing or shocking to report here. I'm simply reflecting on life, fighting through this blog post, daydreaming about the greater that God has for me that I cannot even imagine--a greater that usurps exhaustion and heartbreak and disappointment and uncertainty--a greater that even transcends my current joys and aspirations. I'm daydreaming about greater tonight, hoping that it calls me out of the shadows of the current and into the spotlight of the present.
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