The one about how it all begins...

That's right.  It's me again.  Revamped.  Retooled.  Ready.  Why?  Why am I doing this (yet) again?  Well, I'll tell ya.  I follow a blog by this amazing woman who is unabashed in her love of God and in sharing her struggles.  She is an author and creates words like "brutiful".  Have you seen a word quite so perfect?  Because life itself is all at once beautiful and brutal at the same time.  Anyway, on November 20, 2013 she told me to start writing again.  Prior to that, I wavered.  I wondered if I had anything to say.  If I was interesting, engaging.  I felt guilty for not posting and entirely too prolific to take in at on sitting when I did post.  But I missed it like crazy.  I missed the outlet.  I missed the stream of consciousness that I could let loose.  I missed the possibility that I could inspire or comfort just one person.  So when she posted this, I took a picture of it on my iPhone:

The answer is YES. You should write. Even though everything's already been said beautifully. Even though there's nothing new under the sun. Even so. Because there may be nothing new to say, but if you haven't spoken up yet - then there is a new VOICE to hear. That's all we have - our voices. No two are the same. No one sees the world QUITE like you do, and no one else can tell us your story QUITE like you could. You are our only chance to know you. You're it. If you yearn to use your voice and you don't - we will all suffer for it. Be brave. Be audacious enough to consider that your story is worth telling and your voice is worth hearing. The secret it- it IS. Your story and your voice are worthy of occupying some space in this world. Take it, Sister. Take your space.

So, this is me.   Taking my space.  Owning brave and audacious because that is who I believe myself to be in real life.  Why should my virtual life be any less?

I struggled with the theme this go around.  I had decided not to burden myself with resolutions in this, the year 2014.  I just want to hone in on one word that forms my habits, my decisions and my goals.  I have to keep it simple.  I started playing around with words as I so love to do.  And I thought about the word "intent".  I do want this to be the year I  am intentional.  I want to schedule in time with the people I love starting with my family.  I want it in pen (or at least virtual permanence in my synced up computer calendar).  I want a running lunch date with my main squeeze.  I want one-on-one time with each kid so I can learn more about them.  I want to take the pulse on the health of our entire unit on a regular basis because that heartbeat has started to slow a bit and it needs monitoring.  It needs maintenance to get stronger and louder.  I want to connect with my friends who are the people I choose to maneuver my life with.  They are a breath of fresh air and truth that keep me sane and grounded and encouraged.  I want to make sure that I remind people I share my life with that I love them and I couldn't do any of this without them.  I want to be intentional about my time with God.  Because I so haven't been.  I have been riding on the coattails of just accepting His sacrifice for me.  I have just been resting in the fact that I am a Christian and haven't been much on the side of growth in that.  But this has to be my biggest area of intent of all.  This is the relationship that drives all the others.  It's the one that is the sweetest and full of wonder.  I have GOT to be more intentional actively reveling in God.  Seriously, when's the last time I reveled?  At all?  You don't know.  Me neither.

Intent was good.  It's all actiony and purposeful.  But it wasn't the word.  Content.  That's the word.  It's all nuanced and hits just the right level of different meanings.  There's content in books and stories and movies.  There's content in recipes and pantries and rooms.  Contents are what might be hot inside that paper coffee cup and might burn you.  Contents are what is within.  I got contents.  Big time.  Too much, mostly.  I also will have content within this blog.  This is my content.   What I have to say.  The stories I have to tell and the thoughts I have to share.  Because, despite my only child bringing-up, I can sometimes share pretty good.  And here is the biggest part of content.  It's time to be satisfied with what I have.  I think that content has come to have a negative connotation.  I think it's considered stagnancy or settling for.  In this increasing time of excess and immediacy, content seems archaic and defeated.  But I don't believe that content is inactive.  I think that it is full of stretch (because tent is the root word and it comes from the Latin meaning stretch and strain.  Sorry.  I have a kid in Latin this year (and  the next 5 after) and it's upped the vocabulary all up in here).  It takes work to have content.  It takes intent - you have to go out and acquire what you have.  You have to think up things to put into a blog.  You have to take stock and say - rock on!  How lucky am I that I have.... That I get to....   That I know....  If you aren't noticing your content -what you DO have, you are robbing yourself of content - a sense of enjoying it and being in the now of it.

I had thought for a fleeting moment that I would concentrate my efforts on the word tent itself since it is in both inTENT and conTENT.  I thought about calling this "Jenny's tent" - like a shelter in the storm of crazy that can be out there as well as thoughts about being stretchy and strainy.  Then I thought about calling this "Jenny, the happy little camper" because then the tent would be implied and you camp in tents and it would be cute.  But I don't camp in tents.  And in my whole life I have never been a happy little camper because in my whole life I have never been happy camping.  Never.  Except at Pine Camp which was sleep-away camping for a week for kids who had military parents and there were girl bunks and boy bunks and we got to slow dance and had lots of drama and crushes and scary movies and lanyards.  Lots of flat plastic string lanyard weaving.  And the coldest showers with the biggest daddy long legs.  And shaving cream fights and canoeing and archery and water skiing.  I would camp like that again I think.  But other than that, I hate camping more than I can convey and if I went camping with my in-laws the way they keep asking me too, we would all be miserable because I am not a happy little camper and I would suck all happy out of their little camping trip.  So, obviously, this is called Jenny's Content.