Saying Goodbye

I’ve laid the sheets carefully over the furniture.  The spiders are weaving their webs.  Walking down the hall has a hollow feel.  I take a peek in all the doors one last time just to make sure I haven’t forgotten something I want to take before it’s gone forever.

As I walk through the empty house, sorrow overwhelms me. I slump to the floor several  times, but I have to tell the old house good-bye.  The tears stain my cheeks as I walk.  But I am resolved.  This is the right thing to do.    I will be stronger when it’s done. It’s my choice, but not really my choice at the same time.

Yes you read that right. My words will be written here no more.. No more words written in the bright yellow daffodil filled place.  I finally got the courage to look at Google Analytics.  What I found is enough to convince me that it’s sometimes necessary and even good to retreat.  Unwelcome guests have walked into my online living room and some have continued the attack that began many months ago.

I’ll be honest I was girding up to fight.  This is my home after all and I have every right to defend it.  I have a post written… I’ve always wanted to propel my readers to think.  I thought about continuing because if you’re reading, there’s a chance God could use my words.  But with some wise counsel from some dear friends,  I realized this is no longer my fight.   I have no desire to put myself back in the middle of it.  I have no desire to play the game.  Mostly,  I have no desire to give more reasons to blame Shane and/or I. Sometimes one has to get out of the way so God can work.

I’ve chosen to retreat.  The words I’ve written in this place always and over the past few months are my thoughts and I am entitled to them. In fact,  I am still entitled to them, but it’s not worth it.  Our life is moving on. We are healing and God’s blessings abound!

The fact is I wish I’d never driven by that building!  I wish Shane had never called looking for more information. I wish we’d have never walked through the doors.  I wish Shane would have never started preaching, or taken the position of elder!  The sad fact remains. I wish we’d have never heard of them.  Because 8 years was all one big lie!  Yes, I realize that God had a purpose for us to be there.  But my human perspective is skewed.  8 years! My younger kids don’t remember another church. In fact, my youngest doesn’t even really understand.  It hurts me to watch her struggle.  It hurts me to watch all of them struggle.   8 years of our lives, seemingly wasted…that’s more of what I’m grieving these days.  But this I know!  God can redeem the years the locusts ate!  He’s done it before in our lives and I trust that he will do it again!  And we’ve learned so much through this process. We’ve learned ultimately that our trust is not in man, for all men, save One are fallible.  Our trust is in our Creator!  THE Creator of all things.

I know there are many hurting, broken people there. Instead of hearing about God’s grace, they are hearing that they need to do better and try harder.  They are given rules and lists of do’s and don’ts.  And my heart breaks for them. Because mercy is found when we humble ourselves and run to Jesus.  And sometimes it’s in the most unexpected places.

Mercy is preventing a man and a woman from eating fruit from the tree of life once sin entered the world.

Mercy is throwing a man in the sea to be swallowed by a big fish.

Mercy is sending a heard of pigs riddled with demons into a body of water.

Mercy is telling a woman caught in adultery to “go and sin no more”

Mercy is Jesus Christ on the cross for our sin when we deserve death.

Mercy is the Gospel.

It devastates me that instead of being led to forgiveness, this man listened to the droning voices, “you will not surely die.”

I know they don’t see it.   I’m pretty certain they see us attacking their pastor and they don’t understand why anyone would do that.    The manipulation, the condescending looks, and the tone of voice are not seen or heard.   They may get a glimpse every now and then but dismiss it. And they definitely don’t see the compassion we have for those that are still in that place. Tears fall down my cheeks as I think about how misguided they are.  I understand more than they know.  When you’re in the middle of something it is difficult  to see what is happening.  Like the proverbial frog in the pan…they don’t realize…and the consequence of sin continues.

This blog.  This place will be gone in August. will no longer be my home.  I’m moving out.  Closing the door behind me.  Stumbling as I go.  Overwhelmed with emotion as I think about the years I spent in this place. The years I spent chronicling our life journey.

I’m sad that so many years of our life have been reduced to addressing the events of the past few months. There is so much more!  In fact, I have have opened some of them up to share some of my memories in this place.  They are only a snippet of the almost 1100 posts I’ve written.

I found online friends when I was lonely, with young kids living in a community where I knew no one.   Some who became true,  real life friends that I love dearly all these years later.  Some that I haven’t known as long, but I still love dearly.

This is the place where I mainly wrote my thoughts about life as it came for this Christian wife and homeschooling, adoptive mom.  The place where I chronicled Tabitha’s homecoming.  Where I wrote about life and death.   The place where I wrote Chip Young’s Gold Thumb. And where the dream of writing a book about him and his buddies was birthed. This Is the place where I realized I am a writer.  Not just a blogger who writes.

I could be angry.  And  I was.  Especially all those months ago.   But I’m not anymore.  I could be angry that I’m having to close up my online home, but I’m not.  I mourn again.  But more than that, I pity those that destroy instead of build up. And absolutely devastated that it is done in the name of my Savior.

The sad truth is this church is not healthy!

I continue to pray that they will get the help they need. I pray for repentance and humility.  And if God doesn’t allow that, I pray that the church dissolve.  Harsh? Not at all!  Merciful?  Definitely!  If that happens, there is hope that they will find a gospel preaching church where they will be fed truth where healing and freedom can happen–if ever that happens, we’d love to rejoice with them!  For that is truly our greatest desire!

God gave me the word Surrender this year. He knew I needed to learn about giving up my ways. He knows I need to give up control and trust Him more.  Knowing that doesn’t make leaving I this blog easier. In many ways I’m kicking and screaming,  I don’t want to do this.  I don’t want to leave!   I’ve lived here a very long time.  Hannah was about 7 years old when I began writing here.  She just turned 21.  Leaving hurts.  But I leave with resolution to focus on and draw strength from my Savior.  And also with wonder and excitement while I wait for the next thing.  Maybe I’ll be able to carve out more time to work on that book!  Because that is a story that needs to be written!

We are moving forward.  It’s not been easy.  It was downright hard to lose 8 years of what we thought we had in 2 days.   But God has given us some awesome blessings  in the months that have followed. Yes, there are times we still struggle. As happens in grief, reminders pop up when we least expect them. Times we have to catch ourselves and refocus on Truth.

And now I say farewell to this place, to homeskoolmom. To all the fond memories made and our life journey chronicled over the years.  One last look over my shoulder as I walk away…the tears flow freely now,  but I will be strong.

To my friends, thank you for spending time with me during the past 14 years.  Thank you for your comments and encouragement.  Thank you for the blessing you have been to me.  May God bless you richly.  May He keep you and may His face shine upon you until we meet again!

And to those of you that received a plethora of emails  as I re-published some of the posts,  I apologize. I couldn’t figure out any other way.

His Grace is always Sufficient,


This post, and the others, will remain active until August. This place is still my online living room.  The door is open for you to read but  I have adjusted my comment settings, if you’ve commented before you should be able to post without moderation.  If you are not a friend, I will not read your comments.  They will be marked as spam and deleted.  In addition, by God’s divine providence, my email address was hacked, so it’s gone.  Phone calls and/or texts will not be answered or returned.  My blog, my rules…until the end.


A Sad Day

Today I made all my posts but this and one other private.  I didn’t realize until after I made the edits on almost 1100 posts that editing the post to private also changed the published date.  That means I lost dates for every post I ever made on this blog. Whoops!  I was wrong.  Thankfully only the drafts changed dates.  All the rest of the dates remained!  Thank you Jesus!  It’s still gonna be a lot of work if or when I revive this place because there are posts that I wrote that were private, for my eyes only.  Somehow I’ll have to find them so they’ll remain that way… it’s still a sad situation, but I have access to my online diary complete with dates!

That means the posts I wrote over the months as Tabby’s homecoming story unfolded.


The day Isaac got his first pair of glasses.


The date of the day we put our beloved Mocha dog to sleep when he was so old and blind he nipped at Isaac before Tabs came home.


The years I wrote tributes to my Superman for our anniversaries.

All of my kids growing up years, so many posts about homeschooling them and so many other thoughts about things to do with life as I saw it…

and so much more…

All gone. My online journal.  Nearly 13 years of blogging at homeskoolmom.  Gone.

All because  people at our former church could not leave me alone.

Excuse me while I go cry…

We Didn’t Expect What We Found

We did not expect it.  To find a new church home so soon.  But God is good.  He knew what we needed before we knew what we needed.  He even knew what we needed when we said no,  but after a few weeks away, he has brought us all together, and everyone agrees, this is the place for us!


A few weeks after all the chaos, our gracious, wonderful friends had a weekend free at their lake house. While we didn’t really feel like it, we were sitting around Saturday night mulling over where to go to church the next morning.  I remembered that the children had taken some acting classes with Christian Youth Theatre many years before at a church near the lake house, so I began researching.  I was looking for a church that we could visit for one Sunday and found a church that offered great potential for more than one Sunday.

“Wow! Really?  This looks good!  Hey Shane!  Come look at this!”

We visited that Sunday and were welcome with open arms.   We visited while we licked our wounds and we were loved. And we loved them. But, we hadn’t really visited anywhere else and didn’t want to jump in on the rebound. So we decided to visit other places.

Grief is hard but as time passes healing comes.  The biggest healing came when we were there surrounded by those that know how to love.  After visiting some local congregations, we are ready to return to that awesome body of believers!  We are ready to jump in and be a part of a growing, vibrant church that loves God and serves people!

And the peace that passes understand has filled my heart.  Whether we stay there a year or 10 years or a lifetime, I know that God has led us there. And I know that they will always hold a special place in my heart.   We know the leadership is strong, the Gospel is preached and we will be appreciated.   More than that, I know this is where God wants us to be and I am thankful beyond words!

My heart is full!

In His Grace,


I’m linking up with Kate and the gang at Five Minute Friday where the word for the week was EXPECT.

I Am Mom

When I saw the word just now, I cringed.  My brain spiraled… “Oh NOOOOOOOO”  what do I write?  I can’t tell the FMF community about the ugly letter I received a few months ago from my mother.  Then I realized I don’t have to dwell in that place because I am mom.

Shane and my children will celebrate me this mother’s day like always. But not quite the same.   In years past, I’ve been melancholy because it was hard to see all the “I have the best Mom ever” ad campaigns, memes, etc. when I struggled…but this year maybe I’ll be free.  Maybe I’ve been given a blessing in disguise.  While sad on one hand, the dilemma  has been solved for me.  Taken out of my hands and I realize that I don’t have to dwell here because  I think about the years past.

The years when Ma ma ma ma ma became



And then,


Each stage sweet as it passes by. My little girls and boys growing so fast.

Hey Moooooom, where’s my…

Mom, can you?

What’s for dinner Mom? (for the umpteenth time)

Mom, I don’t feel good.

Mom can you take me here?

Mom will you go with me there?

Mom, I’m home!

Bye Mom!

I am Mom to 4 fantastic kiddos. I don’t have to dwell on what I don’t have. I am blessed, privileged really, to be Mom.

One of these days there will be no more mom cries. Just as the days of bottles and diapers are long past. Shane reminds me of this on the crazy days where I’m ready to pull my hair out because I’ve had to remind one of them, or two of them or maybe even all 4 of them of something I’ve told them 1000 times over.

But as I sit here in the quiet hour I realize that he is right.

I realize that one day sooner than I care to think about, the silence will be deafening.

My crazy house will be still. Lonely even. No more shouts of Moooooooooom.

No more bantering. Or bickering, or jokes, or laughter until I snort and they all tease me about it.  No more hugs goodnight and love you’s as they walk down the hall.

But I will take comfort knowing that Shane and I did the best we could with what we had and where we failed God succeeded.

I take comfort that our door will always be open for our children, and maybe someday for their families too.

I take comfort knowing that God blessed a young woman that knew little about being a mom 4 times over and took my meager offerings and grew mighty oaks to his glory.

I will take comfort knowing that I left a legacy different than the one left for me.

Yes I know my babies will face trials of their own, just as we have. Their lives will curve and sag and twist through difficulties but I also know that as God’s will, they will grow stronger through them, just as we have.

Yes, I miss little toes and baby giggles and toddlers wobbling and falling down but I am blessed because I am mom.

Happy Mother’s Day y’all!




A Bit of Fun in the Mail

Yesterday in our mailbox was a bright yellow envelope addressed to Tabitha from a person’s who’s name we didn’t recognize…hmmm….

Oh yes! We submitted a claim to Samaritans for some stomach issues she’s been having.  This envelope was the first response to that claim. Since it was addressed to Tabby, we let her open it.


Sure enough, out fluttered the familiar Samaritan slip and a check.  But there was more.  There was a little and written note.


The sender told Tabby that she was praying for her and then shared that her daughter’s name was Dorcas, with a short explanation of the origin of the name.  For those of you who may not know, Dorcas was the name Tabitha’s birth family gave her in Liberia.  The foster family called her Dee-Dee.  As much as we loved the name Dorcas, we decided it might be a difficult name to have in the United States. So we changed it from the Greek, Dorcas to the Aramaic, Tabitha.

Tabitha was SO excited to here that this family had a “Dorcas” she’s written a letter that she wants us to send back and in this case Shane and I think it’s perfectly appropriate.

It’ll be interesting to see if this develops into a pen pal situation.  Either way, we think it’s pretty awesome.


Linking up with Kate and the gang at Five Minute Friday.  Where the one word prompt was “mail”

If you’re interested in information about Samaritans, we get a referral discount if you mention us.  Post a comment and I’ll get back with you with the info you’ll need.  We have been so pleased with this form of non-insurance and highly recommend it.  It’s such a blessing to send cards of encouragement with our checks each month, and so encouraging to receive notes of encouragement.

Where Were You When the Twin Towers Fell?

This morning marks the 15th anniversary of the attack on American freedom.  If I have it set right, this will post about the time the plane hit the first tower. The Twin Towers fell at the hand of terrorists that infiltrated our country and murdered in cold blood innocents.  Todd Beamer was only one of the brave persons that died in Pennsylvania, but there were more whose names did not become as popular as Mr. Beamer’s.  Our Pentagon attacked.  Our PENTAGON.  Do you realize the significance of that?  The place where the leaders of all 5 branches of our military resides.  The attackers were making a statement.

Many died that day.  The images are still crisp in my head.  The planes crashing into the twin towers, watching the first tower crumble.  Then watching the same happen with the second.  The people jumping to their death instead of waiting for the inevitable.

The images of people running with ash covered faces, clothes, running away from the danger.

The people that were “supposed” to be at work that morning, but weren’t.  If I remember correctly one lady stopped to buy a new pair of pantyhose because she had put a run in her last pair.  Another, a band-aid.

I will never forget George W. Bush standing on top of the rubble with the megaphone when someone spoke and he diverted his words, and said, “I can hear you, the rest of the world can hear you and the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon.”  Say what you will about him now, but that day, at that time, he somehow knew exactly what the citizens needed to hear the day he visited the spot that quickly became known as Ground Zero.

I fear we have forgotten.  I fear we have gone on with our lives.  I fear we have discovered social media and are more interested in how many likes we get on a post or picture and we’ve forgotten that horrific day in our history.  There is so much tragedy today that we’ve become numb to it.  A shooting here, a killing there, a bomb somewhere else.  But my friends, we can NOT forget!  We must remember who were are.  We must remember that we are America.  And we are the best and greatest country in the world.  We have greater freedoms than most of the world.  And we cannot forget that!
Back to my question.  Where were you that tragic day?
I will never forget.  I was snuggling with Hannah.  It was 1 week before Isaac’s second birthday.  When the phone rang.  My mother in law (or maybe it was my father in law) called and asked if I had heard.  No, I had no idea what was going on.  I quickly got up and turned on a little black and white tv. I mean little, I think it had a 6 inch screen and watched in horror and shock.  Shane was working at a nearby high school as a sign language interpreter because he had recently gotten laid off and hadn’t found a permanent job.  He know what was happening.  When he could, he called and assured me he was okay.  He was only a few blocks down the road, but, at that moment,
everything in the world was uncertain.
We were all glued to the T.V.  Watching.  Waiting.  Wondering.  We sat in shock wondering how this could have happened.
I remember the day Saddam Hussein fell.  We were back in front of that little t.v. when his statue fell and the people were dancing in the streets.
And we all felt a little safer.
Again my question.  Where were you that day.  What were you doing?  I challenge you to never, ever forget.
Tomorrow, my Isaac, now 17 will be walking around D.C. with his group.  But,  I’ll be honest, I’m a little nervous. I know it’s mama heart worry.  I’m guessing I’m not the only mama that is or would be nervous.   But I also know God is God and He is on the throne. I also remind myself that the likelihood of another tragic attack on the same day 15 years later is not likely.  But I’ll be glad when that plane lands Monday afternoon and my boy is home.
Don’t forget. Don’t forget those images of your day 15 years ago tomorrow.  Let’s remember those innocent men and women who died.  Those firefighters who worked tirelessly, risking their own lives and some losing their own lives to save those they could.  Let’s remember those like Todd Beamer and those with him who tried to save himself in a plane over Pennsylvania but could not be successful.  Let’s remember those at the Pentagon who were killed and injured.
Let’s remember the terrorists that attacked our country because of our freedoms.  Let’s always remember that freedom isn’t free.  It comes with a price.  It comes with loss of life.

Sand Between my Toes

I had forgotten how the sand beckons from the beach, until today…

tabby on the beach

The Pacific Ocean called and we answered.

Throwing off my shoes, I walked toward the sea barefoot on the warm, wet, white gold sand toward the water softly lapping the shore.

Soft and warm the sand squished between my toes like an old friend. Then the water kissed me and time stopped. The troubles of being cooped up in a silver tube darting through the skies were behind us. The kids that had been sick, were sick no more.  The troubles of the day before? Gone. All the worries of the world vanished as I stood on the shore.

Isaac, Tabby Malachi and I played with the waves. Stepping into them as they approached. Hannah sitting just out of reach, (or was she) abandoned decorum to call out her greeting. How far would the waves travel to give their greeting back? No one knew. Each time was different. Sometimes they’d approach like a lion causing us to step back or stand firm. Another would approach with the same tenacity, but stop short cheated as the wave before receded stopping it before it could crash. As we sat to dry, watching the surfboards paddle out and ride in, we’d also watch the water coming toward us. Each wave making us wonder if we’d few wet again. Yeah, a few caused us to rise from our seats on the sand.

Shane got his feet wet then napped while the oceans sounds lulled him to the land of napping.

We brushed the sand off best we could and returned to the land of navigating new roads, new places and new experiences.

Life is good


What I Learned From Chip Young’s Gold Thumb

Two months ago I would have never imagined…I seriously thought, “It’ll be fun to write a few little stories about Uncle Chip in October.”  I had NO idea I’d end up writing a mini-biography of his life.

But God knew exactly what He wanted as I sat a few months ago thinking “that’d be a fun 31 days topic”

Chip Young 31 days buttonHis plan was so much MORE than my little idea.

Writing this series has truly shown me just HOW legendary Chip was as a musician AND as a person!  And his music legend was such a small slice of who he was.  And it makes me wish I’d have spent more time encouraging him talk about his life.

Chip Young's music legend was only a slice of who he was Click To Tweet

If I’d have known what God had planned, I might not have done it. But isn’t that the way He works  oftentimes?  Not letting us see the entire picture until it’s over?

Today begins a new month.  A new adventure.  One that involves figuring out WHAT to do with Chip Young’s Gold Thumb if anything.

Do I write a book?  Can I write a book?   I don’t think my writing is so fantastic, but I do think Uncle Chip’s life was that interesting. I’ve got a unique story angle.  And there are many angles to market it..  Elvis fans, classic Country music folks, thumbpickers,  Christians, biography lovers, and that’s just off the top of my head.

And after a search of Amazon, there doesn’t seem to be many offerings like it.  Some similar, but still different.  And only a couple of newer publications.


So I explore the world of publishing…and see what God has in mind.  Will you pray with me about it?  There are so many options.   I need wisdom as I seek information, and, it takes a lot of work!

Basically, I have to write a proposal, complete with a synopsis of the book, marketing ideas, platforms, social media, and more before anything can happen.  That is recommended even to self-publish. .

And then there’s this.

Do I write only about Uncle Chip alone.  Or do I include other legends behind the legends.  Or maybe I make the book “one of” in a series.  Now that I’ve gone this far, will other legends behind the legends talk to me?    Jerry Kennedy told me he would, but will others?

I’d love to write about these Nashville legends that are still with us. There are  many.  I want to talk to them before it’s too late.

I MUST include the faith aspect. It was such a huge part of who Uncle Chip was that I can’t leave it out.

And I have to figure this out before I start because

I have to come up with a book title

Chip Young’s Gold Thumb was great for a blog title; especially for those that knew him or who he was; but as a book title, I don’t think it’d fly.

Some ideas off the top of my head include:

“Nashville Legends You Don’t Know that You Know”

“The Nashville Legends You Don’t Know That You Know”

“The Legends Behind the Classic Country Legends”

And then I have to WRITE  the proposal.

And then I have to WRITE the BOOK!. 

And even to write this for all of you to see is scary.

See? I’ve already begun thinking of how to write the book proposal.

Oh Yes!  Isn’t this post supposed to be about what I learned through the process of 31 days?  I got carried away and forgot…

What did I learn?

I learned that I not only LOVE reading biographies, I LOVE writing them!

I learned that I love writing biographies #write31days Click To Tweet

I learned that I LOVE the research process

I learned that I’m a classic country music fan and it only took me all my life to claim it.

I learned that I'm a classic country music fan; it only took me all my life to claim it #31days Click To Tweet

I was surprised to discover that writing this was healing to some of my childhood. Murfreesboro was one of my happy places.  After the divorce I didn’t spend as much time at the farm. I remember nothing bad at Boxwood. Oh, I’m,not naive enough to think there was never ugly. I just don’t remember it. The good outweighed any bad.

I realized my love for country living came from all the time I spent in Murfreesboro.  And I live in the country now and love it.  Not on 80+ acres (I wish) but in the country, nonetheless.

I learned SO much about my Uncle that I didn’t know.

I learned that I can write compelling word pictures.

And mostly I learned that God will provide the audience.

I’m going to be raw honest.

Please forgive me if you’re reading from 31 days I don’t mean to hurt feelings but this is how I felt when I looked at it on October 1st.

I was SO disappointed when the “Too Awesome to Categorize” category was so full.

I just knew that had something unique to offer.

I mean how many people can say that much of their childhood was spent with a country music legend?

And it would get lost.

And if it got lost, no one would read it.

But I discovered God provided the audience that He wanted my words to reach.

But I discovered God provided the audience that He wanted my words to reach. #31days Click To Tweet

God is SO good!

Chip Young’s wife and daughter.  And the rest of the family.  Current day friends.  Childhood friends. High school friends. And some music folks.

I know some of them read it because they commented, or entered the contest, or emailed to tell us how much they enjoyed it.

Now I feel terrible for my frustration at the beginning of the month.

While I’m very grateful for those of you that visited from 31 days and I’m glad you came I know my words were not written primarily for you.

As I think about the things I learned and that I’m contemplating a BOOK.

Can I say YIKES????

But I sit here with “The Author Training Manual” on my lap as I edit this post while Shane drives today…

I guess I’ll walk through as God opens doors.  And if He means me to write a book, He’ll give me the knowledge, wisdom and strength to do it.

Until next time!

Christy signature

A Giveaway; Because 12 Years Ago I Said Yes!

This is a special post.

Almost 12 years ago, I started writing this blog on little ole’ Homeschoolblogger.  When HSB went away, I moved it to WordPress.  There’s been an ebb and flow, some years more prolific, Some years, barely a post…But today?

Today I reached a magnormous milestone!

1000 posts imageToday I reached a magnormous milestone! 1000 Posts! Click To Tweet

This month I also went from to a self-hosted,

Yes, exciting times and it only took 12 years!  HA!

It was the beginning of a new year.  We had just moved out to our little home town.  I was craving fellowship. Shane told me about this new thing called blogging.

WHAT is THAT????  I said with an odd twisted look on my face.

So I took a look.

He helped me that day.  And it was an all day project.

Today, I’m not much more technology savvy than I was 12 years ago.

When I’m done, I have to figure out HOW to add a contest generator to this post.

It may take me all day.

But I WANT to give y’all an opportunity to win a little gift.   In honor of my special day and the ” on being a writer” discussion group.

A mini portable writers desk!!!

It will include a journal, a smaller journal, a lil’ fat notebook, some fun colored pens, cute postie notes, 2 “eye” pads, all delivered in a bright pink zippered pouch!

Here is a picture of the prize package!

giveaway blog1

It’s very fitting that my 1000 post fall on a Five Minute Friday post.  It’s what got me back into the habit of blogging.  Even if I posted nothing else in the week, I posted for FMF.  And now, I’m posting more regularly.  I’m participating in the discussion that Kate is hosting and planning a fantastic 31 days series.

So without further ado.  A simple give-away for a simple Momma blogger.  It will run from today through next Sunday, the 13th.  (Here’s to hopin’ I did it right!)  And you’ve gotta fill out the form to enter my giveaway 🙂

 Christy signature
I’m linking up with Kate and the gang at Five Minute Friday.  Click here to visit and learn more!

Am I a Writer????

writer pic

I am a writer.  There I said it.  But Am I a Writer???  There’s the debate. The one going on in the recesses of my brain in recent days.  I’ve never considered myself a writer.  I’m a blogger.  But, does that make me a writer?

I’m embarking on a writer’s retreat this weekend, but I’m not sure I belong.

Others have called me a writer.  At my sweet Uncle’s funeral in December several of my relatives encouraged me when I mentioned writing about my “legendary Uncle” for the 31 day challenge in the coming year.  “You’re the writer in the family” they said.  Even then, it didn’t click.  I’m a writer?

I tell people I blog, or “I’m a blogger”, but NEVER “I’m a WRITER”  That title comes with a certain flair.  A flair that I don’t possess.

But.  I. am. a. writer.

Truth be told, I’ve been a writer for a long time.

I’ve even been published. HA!

In my 6th grade graduation program.

I wrote a poem, and it made the program.  Wanna know the title?


Yep!  Those little beastly creatures that can invade any home with an animal host. And invade with a vengeance.   They had invaded my childhood home and I wrote about it.  (Thinking back, I’m SURE my mother LOVED that!)

Today I have no idea what that poem said.  And I’m not even sure a copy still exists.  Maybe somewhere in a box in my one of my mothers closets…or, maybe not.

When I was young, I collected poetry.  Mostly dribble from the Teen Beat magazine that was so popular back then.

Over the years I have written a few praise choruses that have remained mine alone.

And in my early married years, I submitted articles to a little home published magazine called “Homewords” or “Homewards”  I can’t remember which any longer, or even the name of the sweet lady that published it.

I suppose the magazine is long gone.

Copies of those articles are stored in a box somewhere amid yesteryear’s memories.

I tend to think of writers as those with articles of worth.  Those with books published.

C.S. Lewis

Mark Twain

Dr. Seuss

John Owen

James Dobson

Suzie Eller

Beth Moore

all I would consider writers…authors.

Call me old-fashioned, but does word-smithing on a blog, mainly as a place to pen my thoughts for myself, make me a writer?

Some would say yes, claim it; others, like myself, not so much.

I’ve always said I write for me.  For myself.  I had some folks encouraging me to go more public and I did; but before that, and even now, I’m content if no one reads my blog.  That said, don’t get me wrong.  I do enjoy comments, and likes; but I refuse to let page views and statistics dictate my blog. I’ve been writing well over 10 years…I have a postie note  with the exact date I started blogging scribbled down somewhere around here  but that’s not important to me.

If I wrote in a diary instead of a blog (weblog) would I be a writer?

If my poetry and praise choruses stay to myself does that make me a writer?

If I were to paint a picture, would that make me a painter?

What about singing?  I LOVE to sing.  But does that make me a singer?

Dancer?  I taught ballroom dancing and won trophies in competitions many years ago.  I LOVE to dance!  Does that make me a dancer?

Speaker?  I’ve spoken to groups many times over the years, but am a speaker?

I used to autocross and I’ve driven an open wheel formula car at Road Atlanta.  Does that make me a race car driver?

I think just because I do something, it doesn’t make me something.

So for now, I’ll be content to call myself

not a writer, but one who writes.

Christy signature

One who writes

 P.S.  After attending the FMF Retreat, I realized that I can have a writing LIFE without having a writing CAREER.  I AM a writer!!!!!!   !***This was a post I wrote before the FMFRetreat, as I started reading through “On Being a Writer”  I’ve tweaked it a little to accommodate the link up; but it is nearly exactly the same as I don’t want to lose how I felt at the time. ***

I’m linking up with the On Being A Writer discussion group over at Kate’s Heading Home.  Wanna join us?  It’s not too late!