Finding my voice...

So, here's the thing.  I am pretty sure that I have a story to tell.  I believe it's a story that needs to be told, a story that others can identify with, a story of healing and hope and restoration.  It is a story that is continually being written and rewritten; one where the very early chapters still thicken the plot as it unfolds today.  I also believe that I am capable of telling my story.  I think everyone has been given a way of communicating their story and thereby leaving their impression on the world--in paint or sculpture, in intimate relationship or corporate leadership, in financial generosity or time spent, in music or movement or verse.  The best way I know to tell my story is through the written word.  

The challenge I am facing is that I read all of these amazing authors telling some pretty cool stories.  As I do, I find myself wondering why on earth anyone would care to read my story when there are so many incredible people out there sharing theirs so well.  I seriously stalk the amazing blogs of Kelle Hampton and Glennon Melton.  I get lost in great articles I stumble on via Facebook like this one a friend shared tonight.  I cannot wait for new books from authors I admire like Shauna Niequist or Donald Miller who are weaving stories of redemption with threads that make you yearn to experience it, and who are telling about Jesus in ways that make you want to get to know him.

For as long as I can remember, I have been plagued with self-doubt.  The voice in my head has always warned me that failure looms just around the bend from trying something new.  Seeds planted very early in my life have grown into strongly rooted, barbed and twisty vines around my heart.  These vines bear fruit like fear and uncertainty, and they are a haven for the belief that as long as someone else is better than me, I am not worth listening to.

What I love most about the writers I listed above, though, is that they speak in their own unique voice, and their voice tells a personal story in a way that is riveting and compelling.  I could say that they are better writers than I may ever hope to be.  And yet...  They cannot tell my story.  They do not have my voice.  

For me, this is both the challenge of writing a blog and the motivation to keep going.  I must find my voice.  This sort of writing and sharing gives me the opportunity to try expressing little parts of my life and my heart in different ways.  This is the chance to find the balance and the rhythm of my own expression.  I want to find a way to be honest and raw and real about how very hard life can be and how much I struggle.  At the same time, I want to continue to bring myself and others back to the truth that in the midst of all that seems like chaos, God is bigger, and He is telling a better story than the one I am walking out on this earth.

I don't really know what that means just yet.  I can't decide just where this blog should focus.  Do I write about special needs and seek to raise awareness to the awesomeness having someone with an extra chromosome in your life can bring?  Do I chronicle motherhood, the joys of Tasty Tuesday and the trials of Mount Laundry?  Do I try to unpack spiritual truths in a devotional way, sharing what God reveals to my heart from His word or through relationships with others?  Or is this a way to put words to the story of a little girl, who has grown into a woman that is given beauty for ashes?  I feel like I need a focus, but for the moment, I really don't know.  I would love to hear your feedback if there is a topic that leaves you wanting to know more.

Thanks for joining with me on this journey to find my voice.  I pray that you will find a way to tell your amazing story in your own voice as well.

Loves.

Oh, and photos of my cuties.  Because, hello...  They're cute!