I had no idea what would happen when I decided I want to write a blog for real.
I have been toying with the idea for some time.
But last year I finally did, it's not even that many months ago.
I was afraid, I did not know how much I should share.
But at the same time, I knew that to write, I needed to be myself.
And being myself means writing about what is important to me.
First of all, God, my love to Him and more than anything, His love for me and for everyone.
But it also means being honest of my downfalls as a human and as a mother.
Bearing my stuggles and questions, my insecurities and problems, my pain and suffering.
But what I most look forward is sharing the joy.
God has promised me love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and faithfulness.
What I could never imagine was the blogging communities and groups, and the bloggers, I would encounter.
I have shared my feelings of disconect here in Ecuador as ex-pat and I have recieved love and friendship in return.
I have told about mistakes, imperfections and errors, and I have been conforted and accepted.
I never imagined how intimate the relationship between a blogger and her readers can become.
I can only be thankful to you all and praise Lord for answering to my prayers.
It has been such a short time and I have found new friends, wonderful blogs to follow and encouragement for my mission.
And I have felt God touching my heart, calling me to His word and teaching me through all this.
It is more and more clearer to me that I must decrease so He can increase.
I want to be filled with His love and shine it through, share His love with everyone else.
Like a jar of clay, wearing thinner and thinner every day.
If you could only see Him shining through me.
May I praise Him, revere Him and serve Him.
May my life be a living sacrifice for Him.
A glorious day of love and brightness, sculpted by pain.
I am still lost in the mist, fooled by the fog.
But I know in my heart, I will see.
I have been toying with the idea for some time.
But last year I finally did, it's not even that many months ago.
I was afraid, I did not know how much I should share.
But at the same time, I knew that to write, I needed to be myself.
And being myself means writing about what is important to me.
First of all, God, my love to Him and more than anything, His love for me and for everyone.
“God has paid us the intolerable compliment of loving us, in the deepest, most tragic, most inexorable sense.”-- C.S. Lewis in The Problem of Pain |
Bearing my stuggles and questions, my insecurities and problems, my pain and suffering.
But what I most look forward is sharing the joy.
God has promised me love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and faithfulness.
Galatians 5:22: “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,” |
I have shared my feelings of disconect here in Ecuador as ex-pat and I have recieved love and friendship in return.
I have told about mistakes, imperfections and errors, and I have been conforted and accepted.
I never imagined how intimate the relationship between a blogger and her readers can become.
I can only be thankful to you all and praise Lord for answering to my prayers.
“What wings are to a bird, and sails to a ship, so is prayer to the soul.” ― Corrie Ten Boom |
And I have felt God touching my heart, calling me to His word and teaching me through all this.
It is more and more clearer to me that I must decrease so He can increase.
I want to be filled with His love and shine it through, share His love with everyone else.
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He must increase, but I must decrease.
John 3:30 |
The prize I'm searching is to see God's light piercing through me.
Like a jar of clay, wearing thinner and thinner every day.
If you could only see Him shining through me.
May I praise Him, revere Him and serve Him.
May my life be a living sacrifice for Him.
A glorious day of love and brightness, sculpted by pain.
I am still lost in the mist, fooled by the fog.
But I know in my heart, I will see.
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“Of one thing I am perfectly sure: God’s story never ends with ‘ashes.” — Elisabeth Elliot |