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A Good Logger

Please welcome a new contributor, Karina Tinsley. I (Addie) have known Karina for about 15 years, which is nearly the whole of my adult/mom life. I'm honored to host her writing here on The Good Logger.


A good logger.

I was asked to contribute to this blog and immediately lost any and all thoughts of what I could write about. Writing is something I have loved and wanted to do since as far back as I remember. Writing has also been something that terrifies me because nothing is closer to exposing my soul as writing. I like the process of writing: the agonizing over word choice, the way sentences flow together and build into magic, the way it feels to have the whole picture painted with words, the last period that ends the story. What I don’t like is the anxiety of starting a new project. So once I was asked to participate with The Good Logger I excitedly agreed, then panicked every time I tried to write. I made a deal with myself that I wouldn’t be afraid of writing because writing is a gift from Jesus. He only wants good for me, so will try to answer the question of what a good logger is to me.

The thought or question of knowing what a good logger is a hard one for me. Knowing what to take and what to leave. In my life of being a wife, parent, friend, and more I am constantly aware someone needs something from me. That every decision of giving to another person usually means taking from someone else or at least taking from myself. I am not always good about making sure I leave enough room for myself. There are a lot of things each day I must check off my list. Kids to school, chores, making meals, helping at school, take the dog outside, soccer practice, etc. These things seem so small when I think about them, but I add them up and the day is gone and I am left asking "Where am I? Where is Jesus? Have I left any space for Him?"

It would be easy if I could know which days would bring forth chaos and which would be calm, to be able to plan the upsets and move them into days where there is space to handle them. I can’t though. I can choose in the midst of laundry or my breaks of going out or making dinner to turn to Jesus and give Him the space to make it beautiful. What I typically do is avoid facing it. Hide my head and push down the panic. Which as you can imagine leads to great moments in my marriage and parenting and emotionally (that’s sarcasm, it only leads to more pain).

I have to step back into the stripped forest and see what happened. I stand there in shame, anger, disappointment, trying to take a deep breath. He gives me the tools to know what to take and leave. His voice guides me through and imprints on my heart the direction. He hands me the ability to tell the story He is writing on my heart. I have to choose to pick it up. I have to choose to take pencil to paper or hands to laptop. He meets me in the madness of normal. He meets me in the darkest parts of the forest. He meets me in the brightest patches. He hands me the words and asks me to tell them. Which is where I stand, eager to tell the story and afraid to make it real.

Photo by Jonathan Klok on Unsplash

Am I a “good logger”? Not really, because oftentimes I am stripping more than I should and leaving behind a mess. Am I a “good logger”? Yes, because every day I am learning, growing, and changing trying to understand what to prepare for. In the midst of all the good and bad days He is cultivating the right paths and the right landscaping. Even I set the forest on fire and give into the really bad moments, it’s still His story. I will keep trying to tell it and keep trying to write down the words that I have.

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