I am a writer. It has taken a long time for me to say that. Of course I am writing so it’s a little easier. I often put a lot of buts in the statement: I am a writer.
I am a writer but … I haven’t published or
I am a writer but… my only published work is an essay or
I am a writer but. . . the IRS considers it a hobby.
There are a lot of buts in my writing.
It is easy to dismiss ourselves. Dismiss our calling. Dismiss our passion.
Especially as mothers, right?
This first book that I was published in was for an organization I hold close to my heart. The money didn’t go to the writers and bloggers who participated but to Mercy House Kenya to help pregnant women in extreme poverty. Our ebook helped to raise the 40K needed to build a well so water didn’t have to be trucked in.
And now when you purchase a book, the money goes to support the programs and services that help these pregnant women, these mothers, some of whom are children themselves- Live. Thrive. Love.
I love that my first book, the book that allowed me to call myself a writer, went to this incredible organization. It is a book about mothers and the stories we all have that weave together into this beautiful-hard-experience we call motherhood.
Consider picking up a copy for yourself, for your own mother, for the women in your life. Hearing another woman’s story will help you tell your own.
We are all writers really. We all have stories. We all have plot twists, high stakes, critical moments, and endings.
Some endings are really really hard. The story we tell about our lives, isn’t just for ourselves but for anyone we touch, come in contact with, love. It doesn’t matter if you have all the words or the right words or any words.
Tell your story. In a smile. In a touch. In an embrace.