bewildered by grace

I used to blog all the time. I used to journal. I used to be and do things that don't fit in a Facebook status. I stopped blogging because I started caring about who was reading. It's a constant struggle with stupidity with me, the absurd notion that everyone is watching what I'm doing and judging me by it.

So here is what is true: I am a follower of Jesus Christ. I am the mother to the most beautiful children to ever grace the planet. I am the wife to an incredible man, who I managed to snag by manipulating him with decent coffee a long time ago. I am not a perfect wife, mother, or Christian. Most times it's adequate, and that might be generous. I am a writer who forgets to write, a missionary who is sitting at home, a dreamer with a fierce logical streak, a rebel and a rule-follower. I'm sarcastic and snotty and sappy, loyal and lazy, an optimist who continually manages to mess up. I'm opinionated about almost everything, and often with no good reason. I'm bewildered by the grace of God in my life. I've decided not to write for you, though if you'd like to read it then I'm good with that. I want to write because it's something I love. I seem to have forgotten little bits of me all over the place, and this is one I'd like to pick up.