I've been writing for as long as I can remember - from mystery stories to love stories, angsty poetry and songs with lots of "ooooohhhs". Writing has been the means by which I make sense of life, myself, others, or simply is a way to get out all that doesn't make sense about the world around me.
Just over seven years ago I started my first blog. I have not looked at it in a while and really would be quite embarrassed to I'm sure. From that point though my approach to writing changed. No longer was my audience isolated to my teacher and family - there was now a potential reach far beyond my inner circle. The first blog that I read consistently was by Katie Davis who lives in Uganda. I remember reading about her life and falling in love with this far off land that sounded so foreign and fantastic. As I fell for Africa, I also found myself enamored with this method of sharing. This writing on the internet for any eye to come across. I let the thoughts stir in my head as to what it meant for not just Katie in Africa to write, but for Kyleigh in Texas to write. I didn't have my teachers there to hand me writing prompts and essay topics; this was one part exhilarating and one part terrifying. I was dizzied by all the possibility and the freedom of writing whatever came to my mind. Which in the early days probably looked akin to an overly explanatory Facebook post from your grandmother about their holiday weekend.
I spent the first few years dabbling here in there, posting pictures with lengthy explanations about the sugar cookies my friends and I decorated. It was all very intriguing. In this season of my life there was a great amount of change occurring on the landscape of my soul. No longer was I giving the Sunday school answer to my own life, I found myself enraptured by my Savior and wanting nothing less that all of Him. I was overflowing. This spilling over poured on to the pages of my journal and to my blog. I found new meaning in writing. It was not just a means to express and create fictional lands (which are both still so important), now it was a way to declare and encourage. A space to present the Truth I was learning and grasping for the first time.
This fueled my writing for quite a while. As I continued to walk in this fresh faith, my heart leaping and coming alive and spilling over in words on a page. Then when life came strong like a cold gust of wind, I braced myself with the binding of my journal and the words I wrote there. Change came quick and the rain poured down, yet there was solace in ink on sheets and words on a screen. To this day writing remains the place where I feel sheltered from the storms around me. It is a place I can go to rest, and let out all that feels stuck inside. It is also the place I have learned the beautiful gift of sharing with others. A home to settle in to and invite others to join me. A hearth to cozy up to and listen to the stories of others, sharing encouragement and honesty, breathing deep in the communion of "me too" life moments.
That today is why I continue to write, for the "me too". Over the years I have read many words - memoirs, poetry, blog posts, lyrics, and there is this incredible rest that washes over you when you read someone else's story and see yours in it too. This embrace that warms you with the knowledge that you are not alone. I knew there was a new chapter coming in how I blogged, how I wrote, how I shared - and that is why I am starting a new blog kyleidoscopeoflife.com will launch tomorrow, December 28th at 12pm. I cannot begin to express how excited I am to share this new space with you. My desire is for it to be that home and hearth - warm with the familiarity of past and fresh with the hopeful anticipation of life to be lived. I would be completely honored if you would join me tomorrow and in the days to come. I look forward to writing more, to reading more, and to sharing more with you.
In His grace,
Kyleigh
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