the night before.
Confession: I cried on my bedroom floor last night.
I’ve been excited about this project way before I even started it. I’ve thought about it for so long— a place to display the images I actually love to shoot, a place to share the words that God moves through me. A place for my passions to play together and compliment one another.
For the past few months, I’ve been working hard, every spare moment, between a day job and family projects and traveling and life. And I’ve been so antsy to just get it done and out there so I can be doing the things I love. Like writing. And photographing.
Then yesterday happened.
It was nearly midnight and I had been working for 6+ hours, plus most of the weekend had been devoted to making more progress. My back hurt from sitting so long, I hadn’t showered in two days, and I was so tired from a busy few weeks with little rest.
I had reached the point where I thought maybe it was good enough, maybe all of my tasks had been crossed off, maybe I could finally take a shower and go to bed.
And the thoughts started coming in from all sides.
You’re a joke. You’re wasting your time. What are you even doing? You don’t even have a plan. You think you’re being real but you’re not. You need to be more like him and her and so-and-so.
You’re never going to find balance. You’re never going to be able to juggle all of this. You don’t have anything new to say. You’re not even that great of a writer. Your life is a mess. Who is going to take you seriously? You’re being a little too ambitious. You can’t even keep your bathroom clean. What makes you think you can sustain a dream?
Those thoughts, like darts, kept flying at me. And the exact same thing has been happening for a week. Fears and accusations, flung straight into my core, leaving me feeling ravaged and unraveled.
And friends, I have nothing profound to say other than…
Do it anyway.
Do it scared. Do it when the tears are flowing. Do it when you don’t know how it’s going to end. Do it when you feel misunderstood and attacked. Do it when nothing makes sense. Do it when no one understands. Do it when the only thing you have to go on is that little tug in your heart that whispers, “Go. Now.”
Because I promise you you’re not alone. I’m right here with you, wiping the tears from my own eyes, willing to take your hand and remind you that the fight to do the thing that God is telling us to do is worth fighting. Even if it feels like it doesn’t matter. Even if it feels heavy. Even if you feel ridiculous for struggling against something that seems so simple and trivial.
Talk back to the lies. Call them out into the light and chase them away with the truth.
And the truth is this: The lies come on stronger the closer we get to something good.
So thank those little lies for showing up and proving that you're on the edge of the very place you're meant to be.
Then go ahead and set them on fire. Because those chains are made of paper, and you've got places to be, darling.