I Am A…

Recently, in conversation, I said the words, “I’m a blogger.”

I understand that what you’re about to read seems ridiculous. Stay with me.

My own words caught me off guard. I mean, I AM a blogger; I’ve been blogging for years here and on my previous site. Regardless, after saying those words out loud, I had the same epiphany I did when I realized that I not only wrote but was, in fact, an author. It was a bit of a delightful shock.

“And you are sharing this today because…?” you ask? I will answer happily!

Frankly, this is the perfect opportunity to remind you to own what you are. Do you write? Then you are a writer! True, you may not be a published author yet, but that has no bearing on the fact that you are a genuine, bona fide writer.

Do you create art? You are an artist! Whether or not you’ve ever sold anything means nothing. Even if you’ve never shown a single piece of your art to another human being, you are an artist. Own that you are an artist! Delight in it! Enjoy being what you are.

Yes, I realize skill is a measurable thing and many judge “what we are” by the skills we currently possess. Many believe that unless you’ve been published, you’re not a writer. Many are convinced that if your creations aren’t art by their definition, you are not an artist. I get it. I’ve said myself that I’m not an artist even though many have tried to call me one. I have the skills required to copy a picture, but not to create one; by my definition, that makes me a copyist, not an artist.

But I’ve been a blogger since I published my very first blog post. It wouldn’t matter if no one read what I wrote, I would still be a blogger. I just had to be reminded of this fact, because I’d fallen into judging myself as a blogger by the number of people my blog reaches. My blog community is growing, so I’ve felt more like a blogger lately than I have in a while…which is absurd.

God has planted within each of us the potential to be many things, and we get to choose which of those things we will be. Do some have more innate talent than others in certain areas? Of course, I’m not belittling this fact. I’m just saying that we all have potential. As believers, we should be actively drawing out that potential and using it to His glory, and we should believe in ourselves as we do.

But even if you don’t believe in God, those gifts, those desires, those drives to BE, are still there waiting for you to act on and own them. Don’t sell yourself short. Don’t allow doubt, either your own or someone else’s, to drag you down.

I’ve noticed it’s become a thing to ask people what advice you would give your younger self. Often you hear such things as, “Don’t give up on your dreams,” and “Never stop believing in yourself.” I think it’s time to flip the script and let your younger self talk to you. If blogging were a thing when I was young, as soon as child Tammy hit publish on her first blog post, no matter how good or bad anyone else thought it was, she would have grinned and said, “I’m a blogger!” And, though she had only just taken her very first step, she would have been right.

So, with this in mind, I urge you to invite your inner child, that preschooler who knew without a doubt he or she could accomplish anything they wanted, to come out and have a chat. Let that younger you give today’s you the courage to own what you already are, to declare with confidence, “I am a…!”

Once you convince yourself, there’s no telling what you can do.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

Gone Tomorrow

Copyright Barry Hatch All rights reserved
Copyright Barry Hatch
All rights reserved

We were in the back of our Girl Scout leader’s car, on our way to a campout, when I overheard a girl with short, curly hair telling the story of the day years before when she had gotten her incredibly long hair cut off. As I heard the details, I popped up and interrupted her to ask if she remembered two girls watching. She did, and I informed her that I was one of those girls. RAM – Randomly, I instantly accessed a memory I’d totally forgotten. (And, just as randomly, it was the “Hare Today” title of a previous post that triggered this memory as well as inspiring today’s title.)

Mother was a hair stylist (We called them beauticians in those days.) until I was in Junior High and my parents started a business. As a result of her profession, Clarissa and I spent many hours in various salons. The day the girl came in with the longest hair I’d ever seen on a child (she could sit on it) and cut it SHORT really had burned itself into my hard drive. I may not access the information often, but it’s there.

I remember being appalled. I remember being astounded that she was so happy with her new ‘do.’ I remember being convinced that she would regret it forever.

How often, in life, are we able to get answers to our impossible questions? I mean, really? When I realized who she was, I had to know. Had she regretted it? Ever?

“Never!” she said with a smile.

No, it wasn’t one of the great questions of the universe, but it was satisfying to finally have it answered nonetheless. I love it when things like that happen!

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

Hare Today

Copyright Barry Hatch All rights reserved
Copyright Barry Hatch
All rights reserved

 

Venitta and Vanessa Hare

They were the youngest daughters of one my Mother’s friends. It amazes me, actually, that I remember them at all, because the time during which our moms would have been friends had to have been fairly short.

Nonetheless, assuming the few memories I have are accurate and not my childhood brain combining multiple stories, I can tell you they were Catholic, because they were studying them one day and they said their mom only allowed Catholic Bibles in the house; there was a baby in the picture somewhere, because their home was the first in which I saw how much babies liked to play with keys (real ones, not those plastic toys); and their older siblings were…a little creative.

On the night I’m remembering, our moms went out somewhere and Clarissa (my sister) and I, along with Venitta and Vanessa, were left in the care of their older siblings – one of which obviously had a car. I remember watching a what-to-do discussion as our babysitters tried to decide how to have fun while keeping the kids. They settled on going to the movies.

Normal. Right?

Unless you’re going to a drive-in theater with limited funds, want to see movies little kids can’t see legally, and those kids really are little…little enough to fit in the trunk.

Yep, that was my first experience with truly breaking the rules. It was, bless God, my only experience inside a car’s trunk. Well, except that it happened more than once that night. As I recall, the first movie didn’t serve, so we went to another…and perhaps a third?

Another first that night was “rated” movies. I saw things at one of them that… Well, I think they figured out they’d blown it at that one, because we didn’t stay long after the scene that messed with my young head.

It never ceases to amaze me, this random access we have to memories from decades ago. It’s also intriguing to consider: How accurate ARE my memories of my two young friends? Assuming Venitta and Vanessa are out there, do they remember us? Do they remember that night? Are they as dedicated to their Bibles today as they seemed to be then?

Gotta wonder.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C