Make an Impact

I’ve been in the bloggy world for less than a year.

I loitered for a long time.  I bookmarked 3 or 4 blogs and I read them faithfully every day.
The blogs were popular Mom blogs.  I remember thinking, “Hmmm, this person has 97 comments today. Do they really care what I will think?”
And then one day, I was so moved, I couldn’t help myself.
I dipped my toe in and left a comment.
At some point, I actually had enough courage to open my own blog for comments.  I’m so glad I did.
I’ve noticed a hierarchy in the blog world.  I’m sure you have too.
The huge traffic-gobbling mom blogs set the trends.  They offer amazing giveaways, write great posts and well, they deserve to be at the top. It doesn’t take a good blog long to become a shining star.  A few of my favorite reads are at the tippy top.  And I leave them comments on a regular basis.
Because they impact me.

I think my heart would stop beating for a millisecond if they left a comment on my blog.  I’m a small fish in their great big e-pond.
I’ve grown my own small collection of readers (You-whoooI love you-see I’m waving frantically!!).  I don’t know what my blog will become.  This may be it.  And that’s okay, because I like myself.  I’m nice that way.
But I discovered something the other day.  As I hovered over my sitemeter results, I recognized a blog that kept resurfacing.  I thought the name was catchy and I had a spare minute, so I visited.  It was a cute little blog and I left a comment on the post she’d written.
About 4 seconds later, I got a new comment on my blog that went something like this, “OMG!  I can’t believe YOU left a comment on MY blog. I visit you every day and you inspire me.  It means so much that you left a comment for me. I’ve always wanted to leave one for you, but I didn’t think . . . Thanks so much . . . . “
I impacted her.
Well.
I was shocked.  This person saw me as a big mom blogger.  I didn’t exactly correct her.  She was a small fish (or so she felt) in my e-pond.
It just made me want to give my best to my blog.  I’ve been tempted to rant, vent and spew about life’s little upsets.  I’ve tried to refrain because this is not an anonymous blog and that is not my purpose for blogging.  I don’t want to make an negative impact.  Ever.
You may have certain goals for your blog or it may be a helpful outlet to you. Whatever the reason, people are reading your words, whether you know it by their comments or not.  
So, blog well. 
Because you are impacting others.


Food for the Soul:
Psalm 19:14 “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.”

My Dear Google Searchers

(Google records who comes to your blog and how they find it thru the search engine. The results are often hilarious. *Update*  Read Shannon’s explanation for how to do this here.  It’s easy and fun and she explains it much better than I can!)  

Hello, sweet Google searchers.  I have been meaning to address you for weeks.   I’ve been watching you on my sight reader and I must say you have misunderstood me.  Because for some unknown reason, I have become an expert in these areas:

1.  Mopping the floor.  Now much to your surprise, I do not mop my floor often and I simply do not deserve the accolades as a proficient floor mopper.  The floor. Is. Sticky. Right. Now.  (That’s because the toddler is watching juice drip from her the cup she is shaking).  Many people have discovered this blog ‘o mine, by googling “overflowing the toilet to mop the bathroom floor.”  And while I have never actually tried this or blogged about it, I think it is an excellent idea and I may just have try it. Thank you.

2.  80′s Hair pictures. Well.  Who knew so many of you cared about the hair style of the 1980′s.  Apparently, I wasn’t the only victim of home perms resulting in afros.  I am sorry for your pain. We meet for therapy every Thursday.  Please join us.  We care.  And I’m sorry to the souls out there who found me by googling, “mother takes son for first perm pictures” and “forced perm”,  I feel your pain.  I really do
3. THAT family. I think we all fit into certain stereotypes.  I’ve learned that not only are we THAT family, we are also, “a style family” (thank you, truly), “a perming family” (you know how to wound), an “esl family” (I’ve learned much from Dora the Explorer), and a “real cruel family.” (Yes, some days.) And my favorite, “a godly family.” Not so many days, but we try.
 4.  Squirrels.  Yes, come here for your squirrel counseling.  We have a plethora of ideas on controlling their population, including, but not limited too, scaring them into accidental drowning. Oh, and by the way, you know who you are, No, I haven’t tried to “fry a squirrel.” Yet.
5.  Miscellaneous.  And finally, to those of you who were searching for answers and inadvertently found me, I hope you found peace with your a. profound itch  b. reckless driving  c. hairy arms  d. strangling each other  e.  being vomited on.
Oh, and to the soul out there in the blogosphere waiting with baited breath for this answer:
No, my hubby is not my twin.

The End.
P.S.  Come back for an awesome giveaway tomorrow!!

Thank You

I started blogging around six months ago.  It was a whim.  It was a selfish act.  As a matter of fact, I didn’t even open it to comments for the first 4 months. 

I wrote.  For me.  
It was out of defiance, really.  I filed away another rejection letter from a Publisher, turned on my computer and rebelled.  Every post I wrote was an act of revenge, “Well, then, fine.  I’ll just publish myself.”
I’ve written about my kids and their fiasco’s.  My bad mommy moments have been on display.  
One word comes to mind:  selfish.  
I didn’t plan to allow comments.  I didn’t plan to meet other people.  I didn’t plan to be moved with compassion.  

I’m glad I didn’t plan.
And that’s why I want to say thank you.
In the past six months, I have traveled to Africa with Shannon and Sophie.  Tears have puddled on my keyboard as I have watched these two ladies struggle with their emotions and closely watched how they fit Africa into their everyday lives.  My family sponsored Bereket, a five year old Ethiopian child who lives in extreme poverty.  I think about this precious child every time I eat. Which is all day long. A giant lump forms in my throat each time my kids pray for him at bedtime.
Between loads of laundry and dishes, I have met and grown to love courageous women who are fighting cancer, like Heather J.  She makes me laugh everyday.  I glean from her strength.  And she has reminded me that I still believe God can heal.  
Reading through the grieving heart of a woman who lost her twins in utero has touched a place in me I didn’t want to visit.  Journeying with Lisa as she mourns the loss of a three year old cousin has moved me.  For days, I couldn’t wipe away the image of a tiny white casket from my mind or of a childless mother.  Thinking of her, I have whispered prayers over my own children and sat by their sleeping bodies and wept- from love, sorrow, guilt and thankfulness.
Following Happy Mommy‘s chronicles of her desire to have another child after her husband’s vasectomy reversal have been inspiring.  I love watching her life unravel and I can’t help but root for this lady who longs to grow a new life, again.  As I did last week, when Baby Mama, pushed out her sixth baby, at home.
I have dreaded the deployment of Kim’s husband that has left her a Situationally Single Mom. She is a hero and I can’t help but think of her empty bed when I snuggle up against my husband.
And these are just a few . . . 
My perspective has changed.  In just a few short months, my world has grown.  Blinders have been lifted from these shallow eyes.  
God has renewed my compassion for parts of the world I will never visit.  He has used the challenges of others to remind me that I have much to be thankful for.  In His Sovereignty, He is teaching me to blindly trust in Him, even when I can’t trace His hand, I can always trust His heart.
So, thank you.  Thank you for blogging.  You are making a difference.  
And, thank you for reading.  It’s my desire to remind moms they aren’t alone.  I pray through my silly, nonsense writing, you can see my heart and know that I am just a simple mom who has been changed by this bloggy world.  
And, by a very BIG God.