Where'd you go?

Where'd you go?

To answer the question literally, we've been quite a few places since I last posted here: Yosemite National Park, Louisiana, back home, whitewater rafting on the American river, and Hawaii. I even dyed my hair blue. (It's starting to feel like some sort of pattern that I have to change my hair each time I post something new...here's to hoping that's not a thing.)

To answer the question not so literally...I've been a little (very) MIA. Not only have I been MIA, I’ve broken the only rule this blog has: there aren’t any (gasp!). I am even more ashamed to admit that by breaking this rule, I have broken TWO of my top four personal rules of life thus far (gasp again!): 1) life is WAY better when you don’t give a s*** about what others think, and 2) do more of what you love. 

(If you were wondering, the other two are 3) choose Jesus first, 4) love urgently and inefficiently. In no particular order, obviously, since "choose Jesus first" is listed as number three.)

At the end of April, two weeks after my last post, we went to Yosemite National Park for a weekend with some friends. I wanted to come back and post some photos, share about the neat trails we hiked, and write about the campground where we stayed. The weekend after that, we went to Baton Rouge, Louisiana, for four days to go celebrate some college friends get married and explore a new city. I wanted to share some highlights (and lowlights) from that trip too. Three weeks after Baton Rouge, we went home to Pennsylvania for another wedding, and I thought to myself, "should I blog about this too? I didn't take enough photos for this."

At this point, I realized that all three things I wanted to write about were travel-related. But I'm not a travel-blogger. At least, that's not the primary purpose of this blog. Then I realized that I was so "behind" on blogging that I should just not say anything and move on. Sweet, sweet silence. But what happens when I do have things I really want to say? Would the other things I had to say matter? Do the other things I was/am/will go[ing] through as an individual, wife, employee, daughter of the King really matter to those innocent bystanders who are forced to read my blog (that's you)? (Kidding--nobody is forced to read my blog. Except my husband. And my cat.)

The answer was probably no, according to the lies I ate for breakfast (the most important meal of the day!). 

Nobody wants to hear about the loneliness I sometimes feel in this new West coast season of life. Nobody can relate to the struggles of a 20-something who feels like God is simultaneously orchestrating each day with intention and goodness and yet so, so far away it's almost unreachable. Nobody understands the various health struggles that have taken up too much of my time over the last few months. 

Nobody wants to hear how much fun I am having being married to Matt and living this new California adventure with him. Nobody can relate to the new victories I experience when I feel like my absolutely true self around new groups of friends or when I haven't given calories a second glance in weeks. Nobody understands the joy I have received from being part of our new church/small group community. 

Nobody. Nobody in ALL THE LAND.

Now, some of those things might be true, to an extent--but I have a feeling that most of them aren't. I have wasted so much time wondering about these things that at this point, the things I was dealing with two months ago are mostly irrelevant now. That's not to say that there aren't still things I wish I had said or want to say now--that's merely a reflection of the fact that God has indeed been orchestrating each day with intention and goodness, even if some days if feels as though He is so, so far away it's almost unreachable. Likewise, you, my friend, can't relate to something you can't read. It's as if I've said nothing over the last three months and instead assumed that everyone became mind-readers (I wish...maybe...probably not). 

The purpose of this blog isn't to please anyone or to reach a certain audience, and I think I've forgotten that. I started giving a s*** about what others think, and I stopped doing what I love: writing. It's about time those were reversed to their rightful places.

Lastly, I spent a very long time deciding whether or not I should be writing and backdating old posts to compensate for the three-month gap of time that is missing from my blog, but I decided that moving forward is always the better choice and came up with two different solutions instead:

  1. I’m not a travel blogger. We are certainly blessed that we have the opportunity to visit many places on a fairly frequent basis, but it’s not my job to share every detail about what we did and what we ate and where we went (no #sponsored posts here)—unless I want to, because I like to, of course. My blog, my rules (wait, there are none--yay!). We have, however, learned a lot about what has worked best for us during our travel experiences, and now you can find some of those tips here, on this new post! It even includes some location-specific tips for places such as Hawaii, Iceland, Yosemite National Park, and Berlin, Germany. 
  2. I still love to take (a LOT) of photos and share them! If you’re interested, you’ll soon be able to find some additional albums of photos on my new tab, The Photo Files. If you’re not interested, well, it doesn’t really matter to me. Moving along.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have a LOT of funny and serious and sometimes somewhere in the middle words swimming around in my little brain that have been waiting for a home in some of my funny and serious and sometimes somewhere in the middle writing. It's time to get busy. Catch ya on the flip side, my friends.


P.S. Do you have something you actually do want me to write about? Let me know by sending me a message here. I promise I read all of them even though I get thousands of fan mail messages per day (HA not). 


Travel 101: Don't break your back, the bank, or the cultural norms of the place you're visiting.

Travel 101: Don't break your back, the bank, or the cultural norms of the place you're visiting.