I feel a little funny putting "Book Review" in the title, because it sounds like I'm some avid reader who is manifesting these expert opinions. I haven't really read many book reviews so I'm not sure what they are supposed to sound like. I can tell you how it made me feel, so I'm going to go with that angle.The reality is that I struggled for an entire day with that last post. I hated that book! I'm not entirely sure what it was that bugged me so much about it, but I was super harsh at first, and not putting forward the self that I am striving to be. Not just on the blog, but in real life. I want my words to be full of grace, seasoned with salt. Writing them down just gives me more time to edit my thoughts. I wanna keep it real, not be one of those perfect-mom bloggers that make everyone else feel inferior; but I also don't want to throw around my scary-PMSing-panicky-no-hope-no-fear-angry voice either. I'll just tell you: I am way better at being mean than I am at loving. I wish it weren't true, but it is. Most of all to myself. Nobody reads this and I'm cool with that. I'm a loser. Goodnight.
(Okay, not really.)
This causes me to ask myself again why I blog at all. Sometimes I just want to be busy with life. Honoring my family with the [mundane] chores, playing games with my kids, reading books, and sure-- driving them around a-l-l-o-v-e-r-c-r-e-a-t-i-o-n. I don't want my kids to remember me as staring at a computer screen all the time. But eventually I start to know that I need to be writing or painting or...something creative, or I am going to have one of my "episodes" where I run around the yard proclaiming "'IF MAMA AIN'T HAPPY', YA KNOW!!"
I'd love to be like The Pioneer Woman and make a six-figure income from blogging. But I don't want to be known like that. I don't want to be famous and to be treated like a celebrity. And I don't want to write mere entertaining drivel either. I want to show anyone who needs to know, that I am a nutty screw-up who is in love with the grace that God gives out freely and abundantly. I know a lot about grace and mercy and being a dork and receiving things I don't deserve and weathering pain and growing up. I want to share my story. My stories. I want to practice writing. I mostly want to practice writing. I'm all serious about blogging, maybe because...you know...it's open to the whole world! And Facebook status updates are visible to...you know...Just Friends. But guess what? I'm putting myself out there and people are reading those things. And commenting. And missing them when they stop! What the hay? I just think that's so trippy; why would anyone care what I have to say? Aren't I just invisible? See--? I don't think I could handle getting famous. I would keel over from weirding out.
So I thought of something.... I'll do it on the next post....