Well, we’ve come to the end. For (almost) 31 days straight I’ve written to the people and things and places that I love. In that time I’ve had a lot of time to think. It’s been. . . weird. Weird in a good way. I’m not the type of person who sits and ponders her thoughts. I don’t have much space to ponder, but I want to.
I’ve always been drawn to written words. English was always my favorite subject in school; the stories, the writing, the grammar. Stories have a power over me that I can’t quite explain. There’s a reason stories are used to teach lessons. They connect with you and make you feel like part of something. When you have a chance to really think about your experiences and your feelings before you express them, have a chance to choose the perfect word, add just the right detail so the reader really gets what you’re trying to say, it makes all the difference.
Now, I’m not saying I’ve suddenly realized I’m the next J.R.R. Tolkien, I’ve got quite a way to go. I’m just starting out and committing to this writing thing. Why? Because it’s a part of me, a part of who I am. It keeps me sane, keeps me together and moving forward. It moves me and forces me to stop and feel things. I so long to feel things, to savor life, to have a chance to reflect on all this God of mine has given. It’s worth writing down.
Writing is also a way for me to figure out who I am. You see, all my life I’ve been conforming to people I thought were cooler or smarter or prettier, so at 30 years old there are still things about myself that I don’t know. I feel like Julia Roberts’ character in Runaway Bride when someone points out that she doesn’t even know what kind of eggs she likes because she’s always eaten her current fiancé’s favorite eggs. For the record, I prefer fried eggs with runny yolks all smashed up and slathered on toasted gluten-free bread. I know that much.
Now that Write 31 Days is over, where am I going from here? Well, I’m going to keep using my words. I’ll use them to regain control of my thoughts, to express love and adoration to my friends, family, and most importantly, my Savior. I’ll use them to speak up for the things I’m passionate about: slavery, injustice, the poor and orphaned. I’ll use them to encourage and lift up people who struggle and hurt and cry out. I’ll try to use humor, but I’m not sure I’m that funny.
And if nobody else besides my mom and my husband reads it? That’s okay. I’ll still be writing the words and thinking the thoughts that will slowly change me from the inside.