Full Circle

Good morning, blog. I had no idea when I got up this morning that this is the day I would come back here, finally, and reintroduce myself.

I've missed you while I've been away. Have you missed me?

There were many times I thought stopping by for a while, but something always stopped me. No, it wasn't just the other project (my novel) that used up all my words before I could come to see you. I just didn't know what to say. I was confused, blog, I confess. It wasn't you, it was me.

Remember in the early days, when things were so effortless between us? I'd come see you and talk about my kids and my life and my knitting and be just a little silly about it, and I would go away feeling a little better about it all and you would go away with your word tank full. Those were good times, weren't they?

But things always change. My kids got older, and I got worried that posting their latest escapades on the world wide web may lead to negative social and safety repercussions for them. I even worried about their future selves--that some future version of themselves may have to pay for my decision to post about the bad day we just had potty training. And as they aged, let's face it, they said less and less of those crazy things that we love that kids say--you know, the ones we always laughed long and loudly about over tea.

And that was okay, because we found other things to talk about, didn't we? We talked about gardening, and my crazy thoughts, and knitting--always the knitting. And life was still good between us, blog, because we still had lots to talk about.

And then I decided that I wanted to become an author. I started listening to all these other voices that  told me what you should do for my platform, and what kinds of things I should talk about, and things just became awkward between us. I didn't want to be the neighbourhood know-it-all who was certain I had a much better idea how to do something than others did. So for a while, I didn't know what to type. Things just got weird between us, and I claim full responsibility for that.

But the longer I sat and thought about it, the more I realized that you and I have developed a unifying purpose and belief that would set us apart--we want every person to realize how amazing they are, just as they are, because God made them, don't we? I wanted people who read you to be encouraged to become kinder, more loving, and more open to seeing the beauty of this life.

And it became easier to talk to you again for a while. You've helped me through some really tough times. Even after Levi died, you and I always had plenty to talk about. Okay, I did the talking, because hey, you make the best listener. Have I ever told you that?

But even then, I put these restrictions on myself--I had to talk about certain things, and every post had to have a point--an encouraging point. As I worked through the most devastating event of my entire life, I was continually working to look for how I could encourage myself and others through it.

And it was good, blog. I'm glad you let me do that. I needed to do it, so I wouldn't sink into the pits of despair, so I could heal and learn and grow. But it was also kind of exhausting. And putting all that work into making sure I would have something to say to you meant that my book--my poor, neglected book--would sometimes go for a whole week waiting for me to come and say hi.

That's why I needed the break. I am so tired, blog, or at least I was. I was tired of trying to make our every conversation match some preconceived notion of what our relationship should be. I was tired of trying to be encouraging and inspirational. I needed time to just heal. And the book needed me more than you did.

But things are changing again, blog. Spring is coming, and I want to tell you about the plans I've been making. I've been finding more energy. The current book is nearing the end of this phase, and I'll soon have more time to talk to you--and, let's be  honest, it's in that frustrating teenager stage where it doesn't really want to do what I say. Sometimes I want to talk to you for a while instead to take a mental break.

I've missed you, blog. But our time apart has been good for me. I've had time to think about how to make our time together fun again, without endangering my children's future careers and while hopefully making it so my other friends want to hang out with us once in a while, too.

We're going back to the good old days, where I talked to you about things for fun. There will be fewer random rants about the frustrating days of motherhood, because my actual teenagers are at a pretty good place right now. (Yay!) There will be far fewer rants about "causes" such as natural health, because that's just something I do, now, not something on which I proselytize. And chances are, there will be far more updates about knitting, cooking, gardening, and the frustrations of writing. And still the occasional inspirational post from the ruminations I've been ruminating. All with a dash of silliness.

We're starting something new, blog. I'm kind of excited to see what the "something new" will be. But I'm most excited to know that, when we do talk, it will be because we both want to be here. Eleven years later, and we're still going strong.

Sounds like more fun already, doesn't it?

Happy Saturday, friend. Please stick around. Good things are happening here.