A Voice For The One Who Wants To Try Something New

Writing my first book changed my life. 

But not in the way you’d think. 

I learned the value of hardwork. 

I discovered the courage that comes from using your voice for the first time in a world that has tried desperately to erase it. I realized the need to believe in your own dreams even if no one else does. I discovered the power in deciding not to quit when it got hard, when people decided to leave, and when I had nothing left. I learned about the beauty in making mistakes, in failing over and over again just to get it right once.I realized I didn’t need to be perfect. I found out what it’s like to ask for help. Real help, not the passive help that asks carefully but the kind that is bold. The kind that calls out and says Father, I have nothing left, please help me. I learned about the art of surrender. The surrender to the words waiting to be written before me to someone else, no matter how much it hurt, or how badly I wanted to quit, I kept going. I learned how to live on just enough to just get by and be content with that. I let go of the hopes for more and held onto the promise of enough. I learned about integrity not only within my own word, but the way I chose to show up each day, the days I wanted to work two jobs and work on this book, and the days I could barely get myself out of bed. I learned about rest, to tell myself when it was okay to stop, to take a break, and to just breathe. I learned about how loved I was and how much God cared first about me, rather than what I did. I learned about the strength in choosing to be alone for a season. I saw the need to no longer settle for what it is not, but could not be for me in every aspect of my life. I finally accepted that I cannot save anyone. I discovered the power of leaning on only God for a season or two. I learned how to stand on my own two feet, even when the waves of this world or the storms of tomorrow crashed through my window. 

I learned how to be proud of myself, to look at my work and say “well done.” I realized that confidence was okay, and that I could acknowledge how hard I worked to become who I am today. I saw the need to let go of my past, so I could write myself into the future. I discovered the desire to care deeply for others in a way that I hadn’t before. I saw the beauty of choosing others before myself in a new way. A way that heard a call and decided to answer it, a way that saw the grief of others, and the call to serve. 

I learned how to seek joy in hardship, and find the little things on my worst days. I realized how small I was and decided that, that was okay. I learned how to let go of control, release my plans, and walk into the ones that had been written for me before the beginning of my life. I learned about God, and His heart not only for me but for others. 

And finally, 

I learned how to start something new even when you’re afraid, even if you doubt yourself. I learned how to have faith in what I was promised even if I couldn’t see it yet. 

Here is a letter for the ones trying new things.

Birthing new projects and writing new things. Here is a word for the ones diving into the deep, recklessly. Here’s to the ones who are learning how to breathe in this process so many of us call waiting. Thank you, you inspire me.

Thank you to the ones who kept going when they wanted to quit. Thank you to the ones believing in something greater, something beautiful, something good. We need you, I need you. I’ve needed your words, your stories and your hope. The light you carry, the dreams you have. They are needed. As we move into the next season of life together or apart. Thank you. Thank you for your words, your art, and your passion. It inspires me on the days I’ve wanted to quit. The hours I thrown my hands up and have asked is this worth it. Those are the days I dive deep into stories. Deep into narratives outside of mine. So, keep writing. Keep dreaming, keep going. Your stories and who you are is needed.

Love, 

Lily