Tag Archives: writing

Un-Pressing Pause

If you’ve ever read anything about writing a successful blog (or even if you just have a modicum of common sense about you), you’ll know that Step One is to… you know… write something.

If you look closely at the dates on my posts, you can see that I haven’t even been following Step One. I have a number of hats that I try to wear professionally, relationally, and creatively, and sometimes I grab too many hats and try to cram them all on my head at once. This is, of course, just as ridiculous as it is impossible, and that’s when hats start falling to the floor.

This blog was one of those hats, and it fell to the floor with a startlingly severe case of writer’s block. It doesn’t seem that writer’s block should set in when you haven’t even been writing for a month, yet here I am.

But here you are, too. Over the past couple months, a number of folks have come up and poked me with a stick to make sure my writing wasn’t completely dead. So thanks to each of you that has gently encouraged me to pick the hat up off the floor and keep writing.

Rest assured, I’m here with every intention to keep writing, and even with a couple of things in mind to write about.

Even the process of writing seems to be a road that I’m traveling slowly. I suppose that sort of thing shouldn’t surprise me anymore, since it’s all still part of my long road…

When We’re Alone

I cannot count how many times I’ve been writing something over the past couple of weeks (throughout my life?) and the fear in my head says, “So what?  Why are you even writing this?  What do you even have to say about this that’s worth mentioning?  What do you think you can accomplish with this?  Why bother?”

And the first answer that I always come up with is, “I don’t know.”

So I stop.  I lose focus, I lose sight of the trail I was following toward whatever point I was hoping to make, and I stop.

There are a number of drafts that are saved on my blog that haven’t been published, and countless more ideas that I haven’t written, because I’ve questioned myself, lost my nerve, and stopped before they were done or even started.

Even though I’ve already launched this site, and even though a lot of folks have told me how much they appreciate what I’ve been writing…

I’m still not sure I should be doing this.

Purchasing the domain name for this site was a complete spur-of-the-moment, do-it-before-you-lose-your-nerve-and-back-out-of-this decision.

I’ve taken such a long time learning to believe that maybe I have something worth saying.

Sometimes I am so unsure of what I’m even trying to say when I sit down and start writing.

I don’t feel like a writer.


I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that stop me.

Because I know I’m not alone… and neither are you.

We’re not alone in doubting our skills, our voice, our life.

We’re not alone in feeling lost sometimes.

We’re not alone in feeling stuck sometimes.

We’re not alone when we feel like we’re in way over our heads.

We’re not alone when we feel like we’re stumbling around in the dark sometimes.

We’re not alone when we feel like it’s taking far too long to learn life’s lessons.

We’re not alone in feeling like we have a world of questions but so very few (if any) solid answers…

That’s why I’m writing, and that’s why we all have to keep going, keep doing what we can’t not do.  To keep asking questions, and sharing any answers we may stumble upon.  To keep reminding ourselves that we’re not alone, and to keep reminding each other that they’re not alone, either.

Because we’re all on this long road of life together.

Slow Progress

With the milestone of my 30th birthday looming on the horizon, my wife Nikki decided to seize the opportunity and bring me some much needed encouragement.

She invited a number of our friends and family to pool their resources and get a special gift for me.  Then on my birthday, she gathered a number of those friends (and even some family from Indiana) to surprise me with a party.

During the party, Nikki asked some folks to say a few words to me.  Words of affirmation, words to breathe life into me.  Afterward,  she presented me with my gift.
Continue reading Slow Progress