When I first started blogging several years ago, it was at the suggestion of friends. I was told I should blog because I’d be hilarious.

I don’t think I’ve ever once been hilarious. I tried to do funny but I couldn’t. It never worked – I would go blank. Hilarious mommy blogger isn’t my genre.

I can’t write anything that isn’t related to my faith. And somehow I’m really attracted to the topics of suffering and pain. Delightful, yes? It’s the very opposite of hilarity.

Basically I’ve figured out that I can’t do anything here for anybody else, or be what anyone else wants me to be. Not because I’m stubbornly secure, but because my mind goes blank. I can’t write unless I actually have something to say. I’ve tried that, too.

Putting my thoughts out here can be a little nerve wracking, at times. I think I’m too Jesus-y for some people and not Jesus-y enough for others.

I can tell by the loss of interaction on social media after I say certain things (like the time I wrote about Planned Parenthood). A few people who had been very interactive with me suddenly stopped communicating at all. Other people stopped when I became less preachy and more personal and touchy feely.

Some people don’t think I have any business writing for the public eye at all.

That’s okay. But sometimes I wonder if my skin is thick enough, because if I keep going, negative comments are bound to come, eventually. People are probably just holding out on me now.

There’s a song by Anna Nalick that contains these lines:

I feel like I’m naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you’ll use them, however you want to

That’s a decent way to explain how I feel sometimes. I release my words and who knows how they’ll be heard or interpreted. Or misinterpreted. Or judged.

But I do it anyway because I’m driven to do so. It’s certainly not because I think I’m a great writer, though I’d love to be one, one day. It’s more that I have words that are burning a hole inside me to get out.

I don’t even think the things I say are that unusual or earth-shaking. They aren’t new thoughts, but they’re my thoughts, from my heart, from my story of walking with God. In that sense they are new and for some reason they want to land here.

I write in order to relate to you. To maybe make somebody feel not so alone. To offer hope. To share joy. To tell the truth and to encourage others to do the same. To sort out what I even think about things – to process life.

I appreciate you taking the time to read my thoughts, even if you completely disagree with the things I say, or wish I said them differently. But, go easy on me, okay?!

And I’m sorry I’m not hilarious. I tried.