"My goal is for you to have the space to live your dreams. The physical space, the emotional space, the spiritual space - all of it."
My husband said this to me several weeks ago. It was one of those moments when you catch your breath and tears sting your eyes. He cut me to my core - you know, the place where deep longings lie in wait.
I have always wanted to be a stay-at-home-mom.
I have always wanted to be a writer.
And now, I'm both.
Last week I contracted my first paying gig as a writer. I had pitched an editor some story ideas. She turned down my ideas but came back with one of her own. I'm in the process of rewriting the article which is due in a week.
My response after receiving her email? I got quiet, but not really in a good way. I became afraid. Nervous. Preoccupied. I also immediately started writing in my head. Straight to work, producing, getting busy.
Oh, and I sent my husband a text message. How did he respond?
He called me, and these were the first words out of his mouth: "Jenny, I'm so proud of you! Do you realize how huge this is? You were hired to write! You do know this is all Jesus, right?"
Um, sure, yea, Jesus, right. To be honest, I hadn't even thought about Jesus yet. It hadn't even occurred to me to get down on my knees and thank Him. I was too busy freaking out and trying to respond to my fear by performing (an age-old, annoying, fleshy sin I know many of us struggle with).
So I stopped. I got down on my knees. I thanked Him, earnestly. I tried to shut off all the ideas flying through my head, to reach a place of healthy stillness, when His voice cut through: "go write already." I'm pretty sure He had a grin on His face as He said it.
Then, I rose and started again, this time from a spacious place.
I'm linking up with the ladies at Soli Deo Gloria.