Life has a way of pushing us away from our purpose, if we let it. Things happen and the world keeps moving and the passion that once propelled us forward flickers dimly and everything feels routine and some days you wonder why you do what you do.

Or you wake up and find you have drifted a little.

I’m thankful that on those days, we can catch the current and find our way back. Or better yet, we can swim for deeper waters where, if we listen closely, we can hear God whisper and breathe fresh on us, reigniting passion and re-birthing purpose.

Words have come slowly these days, especially here in this space. Isn’t it funny how we find ourselves going around the same mountain or perched on the same bench or stuck in the same place over and over? I found a post I wrote last year from this same spot so I’m using it to encourage myself again. (Maybe you, too, can find encouragement here?)

(The following post was originally published in March 2013)

There are days I want to quit.

Days I want to turn off the computer, lay down my pen, and submit an application to a sophisticated boutique where my employee discount would get me twenty percent off of cute shoes and pretty dresses.

I have thought about it, you know.

I wonder, is this thing I’m doing making a difference?

Should I venture from this place and look for something new?

And then the thought of not writing makes my heart ache.

The thought of not sharing through words makes it hard to breathe and I know what, really, I already knew.

I know I belong here with you.

Here in this space sharing life experiences, broken places, and lessons learned.

And there in my writer’s desk pounding sentences and building chapters with words that may never be read.

When I’m here I feel like we could sit and have a brownie or I could dip my chocolate covered old fashioned donut in my coffee and you wouldn’t mind.

And when I’m there sometimes it’s lonely but words heal as they spill out and faith tells me one day they will heal someone else, too.

So I keep writing.

And my heart smiles when you pull up a chair and join me.

Thank you for listening, friends. 

And thank you for being a part of this journey, wherever it may lead us.

Is there something you know (but sometimes doubt) you were born to do? Is there a passion for something that drives you forward and keeps you pressing in even when your flesh flirts with discouragement and your heart tempts to fail? I would love to hear this part of your story.