sometimes I stare at this blank page with words and feelings swarming through my mind and I don’t know how to get them all out in the way that I want. I’ve always had that problem, sometimes even with my everyday talking. I’m getting used to this whole blogging thing, the whole writing my feelings and life down for everyone and anyone to read. it’s a freeing yet scary feeling, much like life always feels. (but why have a blog if you aren’t going to share things?) growing up has always been a constant battle in my life (does that sound a bit dramatic?). everyone else was growing up around me, while I still played polly pockets with my neighbor who was(is) six years younger than me. I cried when I first had to shave my legs, or do other things that made me “grow up”. when I packed up my polly pockets, even though I knew it was time to grow out of them, there was still a sadness in my heart, I was never ready to leave the sweetness of being small. I never thought I’d ever be ready, but I am, I’m more than ready. —you know when you’re standing on a cliff (cause I’m sure everyone does that all the time) and you want to jump down into the river below, it seems so exhilarating, and fun, but also, a little bit terrifying (one of my best friends posted something yesterday about this). all your friends are in the water, talking about their experience on the way down, they felt a rush, it may have stung some of their feet, but they were so happy they took the plunge. I don’t want to stand at the top forever because it’s easier or safe, I don’t want to be wondering my whole life what it would be like to free fall into the water. I want to feel that rush, even if it stings my feet.— it’s time to grow up, I can’t stay in one place forever and expect my life to magically come together, I need to be tested and challenged, and see places I’ve never seen before. I’m willing and waiting to see wherever the Lord wants to take me.