Get ready. These are delicate pieces of my heart…

40 years in the desert, just to realize that I should have pushed through, worked hard, stayed consistent, and believed in myself.

My 40th birthday is a little under 3 months away. Coincidence? I think not…

Most days, I feel like a million broken pieces held together by bones, muscle, and skin, somehow making it through each sunrise and sunset.

Isn’t it funny how life can break even the strongest person? Perspective is everything… Jesus…. Jesus gives me perspective. He’s the only reason I haven’t fallen apart.

I have been running. Running for a very long time; from my gifts, from my past, from my wounds, from my failures. Grabbing at whatever came my way that made me feel significant. Random jobs, new ideas, world-changing movements… trying to figure out my place in this world, only to come face to face with dead ends or the realization that each effort had it’s season. My role was temporary.

In almost 40 years, I haven’t I been able to figure it out. Why have all my previous attempts, failed? What must people think of me now? (Believe me, you don’t need to answer this for me. I am very aware of the difference between the lies in my head and the truth of matter). But still… The emotions and the memories often paralyze me.

As a mom of two extremely active and independent toddler boys and a wife of a strong, busy husband walking out his own recovery and discovering God’s plan for his life, I often feel overwhelmed, misunderstood, and well… like… a failure. I feel lost. Trapped. Silenced.

The voice I once had, has been silenced. Have you noticed?

Silence, I’m learning, has been the training ground for me. It forces me to stop talking so much and start listening; to myself, my Father, and the world around me. I have been asking one main question in the silence… what did you give me, Father?

What contribution do I have that is significant? What am I missing?

I once thought it was writing. That is where my journey began; as a writer. Running an editorial staff, interviewing dignitaries around the world, conducting restaurant reviews, and a columnist for my own “Dear Miss Mary” relationship column (YES, that was before Jesus, YES, that’s where the name came from, and YES, I was a real-life “Carrie Bradshaw” in Orlando.) I thought that I would be living my dream by now as a famous relationship columnist for a lifestyle magazine in NYC. But that dream ended quickly by no fault of my own. Bad people, bad business and bad “luck” quickly took my dream away, and I never had the courage to fight for it… until 2008…

In 2008 I published CultureShock Magazine from Jacksonville, FL. It was a “by teens, for teens publication” that started off being the revival of that very dream, only this time, for Jesus. Sadly, after a lot of effort, a lot of dreaming, a lot of faith and a lot of sacrifice, that dream ended too. Our funding fell through before our second issue was published, and I was unable to raise the funds in time. Slowly, I ran out of money, ran out of hope and ran out of dream. And since then, I’ve been limping through life, waiting for God to show me where I belong.

Jesus, what gift do I have that is significant enough to work? To succeed? To leave a legacy?

Dear Miss Mary

It still nags me.

(But God, EVERYONE is a writer these days. EVERYONE has something to say! And I’m just NOT GOOD ENOUGH!)

*Even as I write this I hear Him correct me. Whispering truths that would never come from my broken heart.*

But I have so much to say. Especially lately. It almost hurts to keep it all inside. But how, when, why, and who would actually read it?

Jesus! Help me have the courage to face my fears, face my failures and face my peers. I come to you with my small little gift. Help me present it to the world and find peace. Help me now, once and for all, to get OUT of this DESERT!