No Longer I: The Story Behind The Name

For as long as I can remember, there have been words.

Words entrusted to a fuzzy pink journal, tucked underneath my pillow.

Words scribbled onto napkins on my lunch-break.

Words swirling around in my head, sometimes like snowflakes, sometimes like tornados.

I never dreamed of being a writer because I assumed that meant you had to have a degree, and I hated the subject of writing in school and never wanted to pursue it.

I was a photographer, I knew that much!

But writer? I didn't think so.

You'd think the piles of filled-up journals would have clued me in sooner. I've been filling journals since I was little. After I'd run out of paper, I'd proudly wedge the completed journal in-between the mattress and my bedroom wall, displayed down my bed like trophies.

Look! Look at all the words I've kept!

The private journals, the ones with crushes and laments about my parents were crammed underneath of my mattress, or stowed behind the radiator in my bedroom. (It's a wonder none of them ever caught fire!)

I chuckle about it now, as I change the sheets on my daughter's bed and sweep underneath of it. I'm sure my mother knew about every single secret journal (Ok, probably not the radiator ones) but I really believed they were cunningly concealed.

I don't remember the first time I got my hands on a camera, but I was young, and I've never put one down since, at least not for long or without great discomfort.

I have always loved pairing pictures with words.

The advent of Instagram ignited my passion and married my interests perfectly.

Friendship? Photography? Writing?

What could be more perfect?!

That same year, I took a photojournalism class in middle school and was so excited, I felt sick. I greatly admired my teacher and wanted to impress her. Instead of using my imagination and creating something new and unique for our first big project, I plagiarized the whole thing because I was too afraid to be vulnerable with my own ideas. I counted myself out immediately, compared myself to my classmates, and decided cheating would be better than effort.

Instagram started to change.

It became hyper-sexualized and over-stimulating.

Battling the algorithm sucked all the joy out of producing and sharing content.

I started to change, too.

After a long rebellious streak in early high-school, I decided the mission field was in my future.

I started counseling and therapy, started reading more, and applying myself to studying the Bible more earnestly.

I didn't do anything perfectly, and I lost a lot of friendships along the way, but no matter how volatile my life felt at the time, my desire for God and to pursue art endured.

I focused on growing a photography and editing business so that I could fundraise and ultimately support myself abroad.

And I did! I spent a year after high-school in a discipleship training school, traveling the world! I sold all of my fancy gear, got rid of everything I couldn't fit in my car, and lived out of a backpack. All I kept was my phone, my camera, my laptop, some clothes, the bare essentials.

This was the height of my blogging passion.

Miles away from home in different states and foreign countries, I'd write home once a week (or whenever I had wifi) about what I was experiencing, and my mom shared them for me.

During my training school in Hawaii, before I left for Africa, I felt compelled to give away the last of my treasures. I gave my camera to a deserving friend, and with it the last piece of my identity.

I entered the mission field with nothing.

Just a desire to know, love, and serve God.

I continued to write while I was away, and send my journal entries home on the rare occasion I had wifi.

It wasn't until I got home that I realized the impact those entries had, and how widely they'd been distributed!

It was humbling, for sure. I started to feel those same feelings of comparison and inadequacy that I felt in middle school. I'd funnel all that nervous energy into countless creative outlets such as

designing websites, creating countless blogs, and starting new Instagram accounts. For one reason or another, after a few months, I'd always jump ship.

Fear, anxiety, anger, overwhelm, comparison- whenever the feelings rose up, the creative outlet was always the first to go. Which was good, in a sense. It forced me to pump the breaks, reevaluate my life, and order my priorities. But inevitably, life would calm down again and I'd excitedly return to content creation.

I've carried this pattern into motherhood.

Words are the only way I have been able to make sense of motherhood and all the ways it's unraveled me at the seams.

When I count myself out, or fail to walk by the Spirit, I make a mess of things.

When life starts to feel like too much, and the inner tornado starts raging, my "art" plate stops spinning and falls to the floor. It stays there, shattered, until I feel capable of sweeping up the pieces and starting again. But if I've learned anything in twenty-three years it's that my shortcomings are not greater than God's ability to redeem them. He has put this desire in me to make sense of the world through words and pictures, and I am slowly learning to surrender the process to Him.

"No Longer I" was inspired by Galatians 2:20 and comes from a desire to honor Him with all of my effort, creativity, and production.

My husband is always coming up with the most profound, simple phrases after His time studying scripture and on the day he shared how Galatians 2:20 impacted him, I knew that was the name I wanted to use for this blog. Dove's have always been special to me, so it was easy to design the logo.

"My old self has been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. So I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." (Galatians 2:20)

I've used my platforms for myself, for so many years. Angsty self-portraits, gracelessly sharing about my various areas of interest, and not understanding how legalistic and proud I really was.

Healing has only come by seeking Him. It comes slowly, it's uncomfortable, but it is good.

I can't not love Him.

As I grow, my questions only increase, but so does the trust I have in His goodness.

My questions have always driven me towards Him, not away.

That's my prayer for YOU, whoever is reading this.

Ask those scary, huge questions. Be a skeptic. God isn't afraid of your questions, or unable to answer them.

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened." (Matthew 7:7-8)

I'd like to think I coined the phrase "voyage blog" but the truth is, I have no idea. It just came to me as I sat hunched over my laptop, creating this website. I'm no authority. I have no formal training in anything except evangelism. I just have a lot of experience, a lot of desire, and a deep love for God I hope we can pursue together. I love to learn, to teach, to create, and to journey with.

Let's voyage together.