Welcome, friend. If you’re here, I want to thank you for choosing to be here, or for accidentally stumbling upon this because of some magic trick of SEO my website designer whipped up.

Either way, welcome. If we know each other personally, hi again. You know what you’re in for. If we don’t, I’m not going to ramble on about myself here. Please see the About Me page for said rambling. There is epic rambling to be read there.

If you’ve read my work before, you might have some preconceptions about what this blog is going to be about, and that’s fair. I’ve waded through the blogosphere and other forms of publications in a variety of ways in the past. Politics. Fitness. Parenthood. Weddings. Local events. All. the. things. That’s what happens when you decide you’re going to write for a living. You traverse the gamut of topics and formats until you find your place. In many ways, I’m still doing that.

But this project is a little different, because it’s mine. It’s not political, or fitnessy, or any of the other labels I’ve previously used to define myself as a writer. It’s my heart, my journey, my thoughts and prayers spilled out for whomever decides to join me.

To New Things

Recently I was reading Jen Hatmaker, as I do, and in her latest book she says something simple and profound that strikes a chord deep within me: “You don’t have to be who you first were.” Thank God for that.

Here are some things I’ve been in the not-so-distant past:

• Self-righteous
• Jaded
• Preachy
• Judgmental
• Unforgiving
• Overbearing
• Cynical
• Self-absorbed
• Unteachable
• Prideful

And that’s a short list, because I’m trying to get you to like me here.

Fortunately, when you walk in faith, God tends to nudge you out of your old ways and into postures and attitudes that make you more like Him. We serve a God who loves us despite our flaws, but who also refuses to leave us where He found us.

Growth and Grace

As I recently told some dear friends, I feel like I’m entering a season defined by growth and grace. Growth spiritually, mentally, relationally. Growth at home in my role as wife and mother, and growth in my roles outside my home—friend, business woman, volunteer, leader, follower. Growth as a listener, a pray-er, an empathizer, a doer.

Blessedly, this growth is always wrapped in a thick layer of grace. As I shed old skin—as cynicism slowly gives way to hope and judgment softens to mercy—I am fully covered by grace. I won’t ever be perfect. Shedding cynicism probably won’t equate to never being sarcastic (would my friends even recognize me?) or uttering a four-letter word again.

God is ever working on me. I will never be a finished piece. And that’s okay. Grace, grace, and grace again.

And that leads me here, to this first confession from my kitchen table—to a new season, a new set of words I’m putting out into the universe. My prayer is that these new words will convey authenticity, cultivate community and encourage my fellow humans in this journey we trek together.

To our shared story,

Chelsea