Recently, I got a phone call from a friend.
She was tired, distraught, anxious and excited.
Through her sobs I was able to piece together the essence of her pain. She is about 7-8 months pregnant, but not with child. A bundle of ideas, vision and desire have been incubating inside of her for quite a while and now everything is on the brink of reality.
I remember reaching this point when I was pregnant with Lauren, my firstborn. That pregnancy started with a little bit of fear, but mostly excitement. I was in love with the idea of being a mom from the get-go. Then, as I spent the required months hosting her growth—I fell in love with her. My excitement to meet her grew, but something happened around the eighth month. As I sat in her finished nursery with no more planning to be done, I realized what was growing inside of me was about to come out.
Pure terror.
I realized that the actual process of getting her out was going to require all of my attention, demand changes of who I was and put me through a kind of pain I’d never experienced. And the “what ifs” turned my daydreams of happy mornings in the park into day-terrors of losing her to a stranger in a Target.
This is where my friend is.
She is on the cusp of a paradigm shift. She may be quitting her steady, money-making job to follow what she feels God has planted in her heart. It’s been exciting for her to hold these dreams in her mind, making frequent visits as they’ve grown in intensity and detail. But now, the reality of them is looming in the near future. And seeing them become real may bring some turmoil and pain. Moreover, she will be responsible for how she handles what God has given her. Thus, the tears.
I get it.
March 4, 2017.
The Doorway Project was launched.
I remember it was a cool, intoxicatingly beautiful morning. My best friend and I met up at the Axum Coffee roastery so that we could sit with my editor, who was working there at the time. At 9 a.m. we pushed the “publish” button and my newest baby of sorts was introduced to the world. We had no idea what impact, if any, it would have on our lives or others. All we knew was that my head and heart were full and I needed an outlet. All signs were pointing into the direction of blogging. And through the support of my family, the editing talents and natural cheerleading of Hannah, the steady voice of reason and confidence from Dana and the creativity of my web designer and now son-in-law, Keith, I trusted what I believed was the leading of Jesus.
That simple act of pushing that post button scared the hell out of me.
Just like the delivery room, bringing this blog out from within cast me into a light of absolute vulnerability. Knowing that people I didn’t even know might be viewing my personal parts… And worse… that people I did know definitely would be.
Over the last year, I’ve been asked a bunch of times, “Why?” Why would I share things ranging from my trip to the OB/GYN to my insecurities in friendships—that I still have?
Because I knew I wasn’t alone.
Prior to starting the blog, I began meeting with other women—both younger and older. A common theme appeared. Whenever I started to show any of my scars, so would they. And the things I thought I was all alone in were plaguing more people than I had imagined.
Personal beauty, health, and financial freedom—the things normally covered in women’s pastoral literature— were at the bottom of the list of concerns. What came up was loneliness, anxiety, being rejected, and feeling disconnected. Sometimes I shared my idea of having a “closed backdoor friendship” and every time it resonated. With the encouragement of my own backdoor closed friends, I decided to create a platform to encourage more discussion about it.
One year later… here we are.
I am so humbled. Thank you for that—for listening, returning and even talking back.
I’m going to keep on writing posts as long as God allows me. However, they’ll be bi-monthly now instead of weekly. (Hopefully, this will create more margins in the lives of everyone involved.)
This weekend, Hannah and I are sequestering—I threw this word in to impress her—ourselves in a hotel room in order to seek God on the future of The Doorway Project. Because I have to confess… I think I’m pregnant.
It’s early in the game, but ideas and visions are growing.
My desire is to glorify God. So please pray for us. If He says to stop posting, continue as is, or dream bigger, I am good with it. He is a good Father who knows best.
And it’s been a year to remember.
