On Writing & Being My Worst Enemy

Christian womanhood, Dreams, Hope, writing

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Write? Wrong. Nope, I want to sit on this very couch and watch an episode of The Middle I’ve seen seventeen times and eat an ice cream bar. In peace. By myself. And yet, here I am writing. Why? I’ve been told that the discipline of writing is key; you can’t be a writer unless you write, and you must give time and tears to such a dream. Obviously, but I’m still growling about it.

I have these moments when I become a snarky, cynical Hulk. Like Bruce Banner, I’m going about my day just minding my own business, feeling mostly happy (and always analytical), when suddenly I think about my writing future: There is no point. Everything has been written; only my friends read this. WHY AM I DOING THIS?! I turn a garish hue and grow some ginormous metaphorical muscles, and the monster emerges. Forget being an Eeyore. I’m not just sad that this field is saturated; I’m MAD. And I’m quick to tear down any progress I’ve made as not enough, as terrible, as meaningless.

If you’re someone who overthinks things like I do, you should know that in certain scenarios, particularly ones involving safety, you can be helpful and use your preventative measures for good. In other scenarios, however, you can be an absolute dream crusher (and not the positive version of “crushin’ it” used by the cool kids).

You become your own worst enemy, and just like the Hulk, you don’t even know it. You rip up your work and then you wonder what the heck happened and why you’re not progressing. This is not hopeful, and it is certainly not helpful. Much of our practice may be thrown away eventually, but we should not disrespect the process of working at it again and again and again.

What’s helped me is to focus on what I can do today, ideal or not. Whether it’s thirty minutes of writing, ten minutes of brainstorming, or a bit of online networking, I focus on what I can accomplish before bedtime. While it is wise to “Begin with the end in mind” (Stephen Covey), it’s also important to do something, even if it’s small, and then continue to organize, plan, and dream along the way. 

We may not be able to fully envision the end result of our dream, let alone how to get there. But if we give our craft a bit of daily love, we’re sure to be a step closer. What’s one thing you can do today? Blessings, friends!

Keep the Faith,

Audrey Ann

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Motherhood and Too Many Photos

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Masur Family 2019

If a picture is worth a thousand words, are thousands of pictures really worth millions of words? It depends on the photo, right? While my flaws are many, one that greatly annoys me is my inability to organize and reduce the amount of my digital photos. I mean, it’s bad. I’ve prided my sentimental self on being a minimalist convert these last ten years or so, but photos (and cards, letters, etc.) are another story. Since Talitha came, it’s been infinitely worse. If I’m about to delete a random iPhone photo I think, “Oh, no! What if we don’t have another photo of her with that exact same expression. I’d better keep it. Oh, and that one, too. It’s the same expression, but her hair is blowing differently in this one.” Seriously.

A few days ago I was thinking about this conundrum–how I should dedicate a whole day when Eric is off and organize (read: delete a ton) of photos. I started thinking about why I feel this need to save all the photos of my baby, and I realized that I just don’t want to miss or lose a thing; I don’t want to let any of it go. I want to be a witness of her life, a cheerleader of all her beautiful moments, and a comfort in all her difficult ones. That’s natural, right?

But as a Christ-follower mama, I know that my greatest calling as Talitha’s mother is not saving all her snapshots and mementos, but pointing her to the One who can save her soul. My wandering heart must not fixate primarily on her, but on Jesus. He calls me to love Him MOST, whose love is more than I can understand. Sometimes it’s hard for me to believe God loves my baby more than I do. I’m embarrassed to admit this, but it’s true.

In that struggle of unbelief, I pray against double-mindedness and reach toward God. I am Mary Magdalene in the dust, completely unworthy, in need, fearful and waiting for stones, wondering what I missed and why I can’t get it together. There’s a lot of fear in motherhood, wouldn’t you agree? Vaccines, life-threatening allergies, diseases, pedophiles, and regular ol’ accidents are just a few of the fears that keep me mindful of my dependence on Christ. The fragility of life and the beauty of life—and there we go. The reason I fear throwing out any of T’s photos is the beauty and fragility of life. And I love her so.

Craving the simplicity of having less, I work to manage this massive amount of photos. While I may never find “balance,” I’ll work to enjoy more moments with my daughter rather than just capture them. I’ll work to live this life, remembering the past, but not being overcome by preserving it. Documentation is important, but being selective will add both meaning and sanity.

Keep the Faith,

Audrey Ann