50 Stories::The Sunday Funk

This is my favorite blog post. Not because it’s especially ‘good’ (although it is heartfelt and honest), but because it was one of those moments in my life where I ignored the voices of doubt and fear and listened to that small, quiet voice in my heart leading me…compelling me…to document my story. That Sunday I had no idea the journey I was about to embark on…the story I was getting ready to live, I just knew that hitting ‘Publish’ was the next right thing to do.

So fast forward almost eight years later. Over 1,300 blog posts and thousands of photos. What I lovingly refer to as ‘my teeny little corner of the interwebs’ has become a home for my stories. But also, it has filled a place in my life that I never even knew needed filling. Which brings us to today…the last post in this series. 

I’ll be honest, it’s been an emotional week for me. But not in a negative way at all! Rather in a heart so full, feeling so blessed, profoundly grateful kind of way. And I think it’s at least partially due to the past 50 days. This reminder of all of the beauty and joy and heartbreak and struggle of the past eight years. Seeing God’s grace and love at work in every part my story. It’s incredibly humbling. 

Today is also the last day of my forties. And as I close this chapter of my life and get set to start a new one, my hope is that I will continue to listen to the small, quiet voice inside leading me to live a brave, new story. 

And finally, as I wrap up my series today, I want you to know how grateful I am for you. For allowing me to share my stories with you. For every kind word of encouragement. For every comment. They have touched my heart more than you will every know.

Love, Kelly

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What is the Sunday funk you ask? Well, it’s occasional foul mood I find myself in when I’ve gone and left all my housework, laundry, etc for Sunday night and knowing that monday the whole crazy mess starts all over again. It’s kinda like that thing where a lot women feel the need to clean house before they go on vacation. My sunday expression of that neurosis is that I like having most of the laundry done and have the house somewhat straightened up before Monday morning. Start the week off right so to speak. Nesting if you will.

At any rate, if I was ever going have a Sunday funk, today would be the day. My nest is in for big changes. I’ve been dreading tomorrow’s Monday for the past Eleven years. Tomorrow is my only child’s first day of school. Her senior year specifically.

Oh let’s go ahead and be really dramatic and maudlin for a minute! It’s her last first day of school. It’s the beginning of the end…

OK. That’s enough. I feel better now. Thanks.

All joking aside, the empty nest is looming on my horizon like a late summer thunderstorm rolling in from the west. All gray skies and ominous dark clouds. Part of me wants to run down and hide in basement and come out when it’s all clear.

The only downside to that is missing the smell of rain. And watching lightning dance in the sky. And feeling the thunder in my chest. Then the cool, calm fresh air once the storm has passed. There is so much beauty and power in a thunderstorm.

 

…on second thought, I think I’ll ride out the storm.

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