::I give it all to you God, trusting that you'll make something beautiful out of me::

Ive been struggling.

The only thing I've wanted to do was finally have a moment. not a mommy moment. not a wifey moment. not a climb on the top of that list of endless to do's and scream as one incredibly productive does moment. but a me moment.

Me.

Remember that person? She used to love sipping on stout beers and dark brewed coffee and she wore hats and her sock drawer was nothing but multi-colored tights. remember her? I wanted some time where I could embrace her. breathe life into her.

She's looking pretty deflated these days. Also, she's covered in baby food and boogers and her accessories of choice are maternity leggings, because let's just be real those things are stupid comfy, and yesterdays mascara.

"I give it all to you God, trusting that you'll make something beautiful out of me" - Will Reagan

All I have wanted to do 24/7- is to create... to recall that super creative person that channeled L.M. Montgomery and Dolly Parton. Ugh! Is it too much to have just a second to myself, please!

So then what am I doing right now? This is me, having a moment! An actual Nichole-ish moment.  The baby is sleeping and I'm listening to female singer songwriters, sipping on a black cup of decaf Community and I'm tickling those black squares on my keyboard and jotting down stuff.

This feels amazing.

To be honest, earlier I had a moment in the shower. I realized I hadn't been creative in forever. I hadn't written anything, I hadn't created, baked, doodled even. And why?

Because.

LIFE.

The past 60 days of my life have been filled with multiple illness', two trips across the country and minor surgery that followed typical nichole-like fashion and became complicated. I mean it all makes sense, it's completely understandable... but still, I don't want that part of me to die.

Lord, help me. Because man, when 8:00 pm rolls around it's a heck of lot easier to plop down on the couch and zone then it is to grab my journal, to hold my guitar in my arms or to get on my knees...

Lord, these are the things that give me life. These are the pursuits that remind me of you.

"Spring up a well within my soul. Spring up a well and make me whole. Spring up a well in give to me, that life, abundantly. "- Michaela McLaird

I don't want to resign myself to a life of sleepiness. To creative complacency. I don't want to let the multi-colored tight-wearing, blog-writing, late night song-singing part of me die... and heres' the rub... There's no one stopping me.

There's no one standing on a platform of compliance and conformity yelling "You must become robot like all the peoples!"

It's just me and my laziness and my sense of entitlement that never got me anywhere anyway, getting in my way.

Man, getting older is tough. After a long day I want to check out, who says it's just a guy problem? But even I know that soon a day becomes a week and then a month and then I'm dead and my tombstone will read, "Here lies that girl, she was cool we think."

Im gonna keep trying guys. Will you try with me? I know this sounds kind of lame but
 you are being given an open invitation to inspire me.

Send me stories of things you're doing? Tell me stories you're reading. Stories you are writing. Questions you are wrestling with. Take pictures of things you're building, your sewing. Send me songs. Send me ideas. I WANT ALL THE THINGS!

And before you say it, just throw out that lie that says you're bragging. Don't be a stupid head. Don't let your art point to you, let it point beyond you... to that big ole sky that mesmerized you in the first place, to that space in time where you felt like life was large and there was more to it and you had to have more of it.

I want to be right there with you.