What Good Do I Bring?
Evaluating my presence in the online space
It’s been nearly three months since I posted the last chapter of my book. It’s been six months since I deleted the Instagram and most other social media off my phone. It’s been nearly a year that I have been evaluating online platforms- their purpose in my life and my purpose with them. Even the relevance of this Substack has crossed my mind more than once, causing me to pause and wonder.
What good do I bring to these spaces?
For a long, long time, I measured myself by these spaces. I have been active on social media as far back as My Space {which I used very, very sparingly} and then finally the advent of BlogSpot and Facebook - two platforms I fully embraced and jumped all in on. And much of that time, the likes, the comments- the overall engagement- ruled how I felt about myself and my worth. Don’t get me wrong, many times I was capable of seeing through it, but many times I felt let down and discouraged if something I offered to the world was received less than I expected.
I was stuck in the social media comparison bubble.
And it was not healthy for me. So this January, I walked away. Deleted Instagram. Didn’t post, like or comment on one thing {with the exception of a birthday post - whew! 50!!}. However, I struggle. Much of the world is on social media and without some connection, you miss a lot. The last year my job has not required me to be on social media and I have cherished this time of just being present in the moments God has placed me, soaking up the relationships that are standing right in front of me. I haven’t needed social media for that and it’s been a beautiful breath of fresh air. A space to breathe.
Also, if I’m honest, I’m embarrassed of the old the Amy. I look back at my posts and I cringe. God has redeemed and brought me along way, I am not that same person, vying for attention and oversharing. The thought of being on social media and falling into that trap again scares me, and makes me retreat to my safe hole where my small circle of friends, church community and work world all coexist in equal harmony with little to no drama.
I want to be the woman God has called me to be.
And this is a hard one because in the early mornings during my beautiful prayer times I hear Him whisper to me: Write. And I know I must do it. But I’m wrestling with this because writing takes time- time needed to work extra jobs so I can support my family and put my children through college. I am a single income household and while I have been helped tremendously by family and friends, I try to stand on my own two feet and support myself. I have to work more than one job at this point to make ends meet, and that is hard…tiring…exhausting…time consuming. There isn’t room for much more.
How do I do this Lord? What do you want of me?
I have started writing a second book- just a few paragraphs here and there when I feel the inspiration hit. It’s private, and I’m not sure I can share it publicly. It has to do with loved ones and people close to me, and much of what I’m writing may never be able to be said out loud. I feel like God knows this. But I also feel Him calling me to do something more with my first book. I don’t know what. I am praying. Waiting. Listening.
I do know this: He wants me to continue to write, and I need extra income. Those two things keep me asking Him: how do you want me to do this, Lord? This blog does bring in some income, and for that I am grateful. Thank you friends who have supported my craft by supporting this blog. The little bit helps me more than you know. And I do have so much to say.
But I do wonder if any of it matters.
Through all my legal battles over the last few years, one thing I have learned is my words, especially those put out in public online spaces, matter and will be held against me. Writing is dangerous in that you share heart thoughts, and those thoughts might come back to bite you someday. That, combined with not loving who I become online, has made me pause. Stop. Reflect.
Does my voice make that much of a difference to risk all that?
Most likely not, has been the conclusion I have come to. And yet- there are moments when people will stop me at church or out in the community and tell me how much my words have meant to them. And I wonder, Lord? Am I walking away from what you want for me? Even if it’s just a few, are these handful of people enough for me to continue?
The lambs made me think…
We have lived in our home for fifteen years this fall. For fifteen years, my family has watched as the green grazers- lambs and goats brought in by our HOA to keep our open spaces fire ready- have meandered around our street and home every month of May. It’s always an exciting time for them to arrive, and a sad day when the giant commercial truck comes to pick them up. As the shepherd and the cattle dog round them up into a circle to prepare them to walk the long plank to the entrance of the storage cart on the truck, we have often stood and watched, saying a goodbye and see you next year.
For many years I would stand and wave goodbye with little children, a spouse, sometimes friends in the neighborhood. This year, I watched from the comfort of my car, parked alongside the road. I saw other families with their young children there to watch. Like mine did when they were young, many of the children where crying as they waved, sad to see them go. Sad to see the magic of farm life leave our beautiful space. Since I no longer have children who are interested or even at home anymore, I sat in my car alone, also crying and saying goodbye. I realized, while sitting there, it wasn’t that the lambs were just leaving that made me sad. The lambs leaving this year meant so much more than they ever did. This year, they embodied a life moving on, endings in chapters I didn’t want, and reminders of times I wish I could go back to but will never be able to.
The lambs made me realize this life is so short.
Fifteen years of watching lambs went by in a moment. My children are grown, my life is moving on, and more than likely, once my daughter leaves for college, I will have to downsize, adjust, get smaller, and maybe the lambs won’t be a part of my life anymore at all. This little handful of a couple hundred lambs have left an imprint on my soul for such a long, long time. Even when I’m gone from this neighborhood, I will remember them. They made a small, momentary bright light difference in my life.
Do my small, bright light moments matter? Do yours?
Sometimes my ridiculous all or nothing, black or white thinking gets in the way of what I’m supposed to do in this life. Like the little herd of lambs that attack all the tall grass surrounding our homes in my neighborhood, I have a purpose. Even if it seems insignificant, it matters. I matter. You matter. We all have something to give. And it all matters.
The lambs, made me think. I need to keep writing. It matters.
Like I cried when I waved goodbye to the lambs, I believe the Lord cries when I say goodbye to a calling He has for me. I believe His heart grieves when I’m not walking down the path He has called me to walk on. Do my words matter? Maybe they don’t bring in a lot of money like a best selling author, but is money the final say on what matters? I have learned no. My words, they do matter, money or not. To somebody.
I matter. You matter.
So here I am writing again. Not sure what else I will say or when I will write next. But I’m here. Listening and waiting for the Lord to nudge and give a gentle whisper to write. And when He does, I will.
What good do I bring? What good do you bring?
“For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.” Ephesians 2:10
“In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” Matthew 5:16
So for now I’ll see you around here, in this Substack space, when I can pop in and say something, with hopes of bringing glory to the Father. Thank you for joining on this journey with me. You matter. I love you all. xoxo