You may have noticed that Tiny Twig has been a bit quiet lately. I’m conquering a lot of projects at once, all culminating Oct. 11-15th. Those projects have left me feeling like I’ve used up all my words. I hear writers say that a lot, “I’ve used up all my words”. And, to be honest, I’ve never 100 percent understood what they mean. Now, I know. I know what it’s like to feel as though you’ve said all you were ever meant to say–not that you don’t desire to say more…someday. But, at the moment, I feel tapped dry…like the soggy oak at the bottom of the barrel.
However, like every good writer, I’ve read Bird by Bird by the incomparable Anne Lamott. In her manifesto on writing, she implores us to put seat in chair and put words on the page. And, since I feel low on words, I’m going to use Tiny Twig as my “daily pages” for the month on October. It’s handy, because my dear friend the Nester is doing her annual 31 Days linkup and series. Last year she had over 700 participate–and this year it’s already over 1100 (I know, because I’m #1105 on the sign-up!). So, for the month of October, I’ll be stretching my writing muscles and shaking off the cobwebs of “writing just to write”.
I’ve decided to write for 31 days on Quotes that I love. I have a Pinterest board devoted just to quotes–much like I kept a journal of quotes in my middle and high school days. I’ll be using a chosen quote as a prompt for my writing each day. We all love quotes so much because they evoke emotion or thought, often introspection. In that same vein, I’ll be using the quote as a jumping off point. I do hope you’ll hang around this month, and maybe add your own response to the quote in the comment section. I’m always amazed at the way words ring true for some and hollow for others.
I was a tiny girl, clad in pigtails and leggings, bumping along with 40 other kids on a big yellow school bus. The driver pointed us in the direction of the pumpkin patch were we’d be asked to trudge through dirt and vines to find the perfect plump pumpkin. I hated field trips. I hated being bossed around by adults when I was quite certain I knew how to do things better myself. I couldn’t wait to be the boss of myself. I was 6.
After the implosion of my own family, my family of origin, it is no wonder I was quick to create one of my own. Husband and I met and started dating when I was 16, I walked down the aisle to him 3 weeks after my 20th birthday. While dating, we paced our relationship, didn’t say “I love you” for over two years, always checked our hearts and motives. But, young love called–and we answered with a ring, and a wedding date, and marriage…and a pregnancy 6 months later.
1. us, 3 months after we met. after prom. 2. our wedding day 3+ years later.
The days sped by after we got married. Before our first anniversary, I was pregnant sitting in the front of a U-Haul bouncing my way from our hometown in Indiana to unfamiliar and hilly North Carolina. I cried and kicked the grass, unbelieving that this was my lot. Stupid North Carolina crab grass. Stupid land of no thunderstorms.
We welcomed that sweet boy home to a door blessed with a sign from our only two friends in the state. We were prayed over and fed by members of our brand new church, most who didn’t know us from Adam. We were alone, but…also not. We had a precious few friends, and a precious new life in our arms.
We felt really grown up. Paying bills, picking our own bedtime, eating whatever we wanted…oh, and getting a grip on parenting our first son. It must have looked like I had it all together. I tried really hard. It was also just really hard. I felt equal parts enamored and despondent about being a real live grownup.
I mourned a home that hadn’t existed since my childhood, one with an intact family unit…a family unit where I was taken care of, not the other way around. I was in my element in my adult freedom, however, and eventually began to thrive in our new home and new roles.
I was the youngest, by far, active member of the women’s ministry at our church…at least the only one that wasn’t a college student and had a kid! I showed up for the first time with a pitch-in salad balanced on my swollen belly. One day when I was particularly struggling with feeling a bit like a fake, a fraud, a kid playing dress-up, a new friend who’d be keeping an eye on me said something I’ll never forget. It’s something I’ve clung to in all the seasons where it feels like I’m trailblazing, still feeling like a kid in grownups clothes.
She said, “It seems like God has brought you to a place where eventually, you’ll be able to speak into the lives of your peers from a position of experience.” She mentioned that I reminded her of a friend from college, one who was a wife when she was almost a baby herself and a momma soon after. My heart beat quickly like that was my truth.
I’ve whispered this to myself when my head hits the pillow at night, weary and wanting to be taken care of. I’m not crazy for the big hopes God puts on my heart–and someday, He’ll use those experiences for His glory.