2 Years, 11 Months, 16 Days

I'm not exactly sure what I want out of this blog.  It seemed cheap to open a word document and start typing thoughts, feelings, struggles.  I should have my moleskin out to allow the release.  Lately, the pen has me feeling lost.  I feel like I barely find the strength and courage to start writing and when I do, the words are never right. I sound desperate (as I probably do here), sad, pathetically musing and whining over the same circumstances, over life.  It seems heavy and pressure laden. I'm sure the pen has expectations. So, I laid it down for now.

For the last 2 years, 11 months, 16 days I have lived in Seattle.  I moved here from Alabama. People often ask if it was culture shock. I say yes because I think that's what I'm supposed to say, but I've just drifted here, getting through the days. With the 3 year mark looming, I find myself sitting back, thinking and wondering if I've accomplished anything while here.

Have I made a difference (in ANY way)?
Have I truly blessed people?
Encouraged them?
Loved well?
Made the most of my time?
Have I allowed myself to be changed?
Stretched?
Built up?
Challenged?
Am I a better person?
When I ask those questions, even as I typed them, I didn't hear any yeses.  I heard loud, definite, resounding NO's.  If there was ever something to be certain about, it was that answer. But in hindsight I see so often that I am believing stupid lies about myself and others. Is this a lie?

So, I want to use this space to find the truth. To tell the stories of my life and figure out who I am. I don't want the answer to those questions to be no, I don't want to ever have to wonder. So often I see strong evidences of grace (as my pastors wife says) in the lives of others and so I will seek it in my own life.


"If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end; if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin, and in the end, despair." 
— C.S. Lewis