Personal Landmarks

Last month I listened to Beth Moore speak. She anchored our day with a word:


It was her expectation for the day to be a landmark in each person’s life. It would be a point we would define as significant.

This was true for me. I felt commissioned to connect women of all ages and stories to one another so they could strive side by side for the faith of the gospel. Although a little unsure what that might look like, the work before me has become more clear. With the help of many, we have started a women’s bible study in my town. I am leading the Fall round of Sunathleo (a Greek word meaning to strive side by side) as we study Philippians.

October 18th was another Landmark

I presented alongside Bill Bass, Colby Sharp, and Franki Sibberson. Going into the day I felt tattered and worn. I wondered if I even belonged.

Click here to see our work together.

I’ve been lost in my writing life. Rather than thinking of myself as lost, perhaps I should just think of it as being on a journey to find my identity as a writer. It’s been a journey through dark woods and towering trees. There were patches of cold twisting through even darker and scarier trees. Dense vegetation and thick fog crept in, nearly suffocating me. It hasn’t been a fun journey.

But today, presenting with people who believe in me and an audience filled with colleagues and friends who inspire me, the fog lifted a little. During dinner with Christy, she helped me see things more accurately. 

Even Andy noticed. When he asked me what I planned to do with Saturday night, I didn’t groan or grumble. I smiled and said, “Write.”

“Have you written three nights in a row?”

I nodded. “Tonight will make four.”

“Does it feel good to be writing again?”


It feels good to be found, to step out of the dark fog and to see a little more clearly. It feels good to notice what has hindered me, to extend a little grace to my writer self, and to define my next steps.

I am a writer because I put words on the page. When I don’t write, I’m not anchored and drift away. Those woods are still too close. They will gladly swallow up my story.

I’m a writer who writes —

  • 15 minutes each day on her current story.
  • Blog posts about gritty celebration.
  • Articles about teaching writers.
  • And, just maybe, chapters about enticing writers.

September 13th is a landmark that will define the point when I realized my purpose (for this leg of the journey) is to connect women from all ages and stories so they can strive side by side and celebrate. 

October 18th is a landmark that will forever reminded me that writing is nonnegotiable. My story matters, whether it comes in the canister of being a teacher of writers or in some other identity. Either way, it matters.

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