Deep midnight thoughts and a flashback to the teen magazine I launched in 2009:

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My family tells me I love to talk.
I love to talk because I want to help.
I want to help because I’m made to love. Across the board, every single human deserves love from me because I know we all need it. And because loving others without expectations paves the way for unity, healing and joyful living.

I believe we all at our core were made good.
I believe a lot of good things because I believe in the hope and the reliability of the One who is good. Obviously, I am a deep thinker and truly believe that talking through our failures and flaws and fears will uncover the bad root and eventually bring Freedom and healing.

Freedom. Doesn’t that sound nice? Not freedom of speech. Not freedom of opinion or beliefs. Not freedom in the physical…. but freedom in our mind and in our hearts. The freedom that we all really, truly long for.

Imagine all of us having the courage, the freedom, to be completely transparent in all of our mess, all of our thoughts out in the open, all of our flaws embraced and covered with love and acceptance. Can you imagine? There would be no more injustice. No more prejudice. No more painful division and angry words towards our brother just because we want our own voice to be heard; our own opinions to be louder.

What if we were free enough to stand (metaphorically) naked, broken and afraid in front of one another. We would see each other for who we are, as innocent as a child who hasn’t been jaded and contorted by life and pain.

No matter how silly it may seem, how elementary or illogical my faith in God and people may sound, it is a foundational truth that has become a platform for my life and purpose. It has become a billboard for those whom I encounter, and the source of courage that I draw from to pursue my desire to share my hope and faith with others.

I’ve always been told that I talk too much. I think too much. I feel too much. And granted, there have been probably more things said wrong than right, but I’m finally starting to realize that my voice has a place. My words have power. And my flaws, fears and weaknesses, well, they can be corrected, overcome and strengthened.

So I march on, one foot in front of the other, in my forties, pursuing with shaky baby Bambi legs, a career as a speaker and encourager.

These knees can’t stay wobbly forever!

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