You start something because you want to make a difference. Whether it's a small nagging pulling on your heartstrings simply stating to slow down, enjoy life and what each days brings. Or something larger that has more depth such as rebuilding your lifestyle after a dramatic event.

I wouldn't say I need to rebuild my lifestyle or that I am trying to enjoy every simple moment, but why can't I say that? What's holding me back from starting from scratch and starting over? How can I make myself stronger, more reliable and kind? What difference can I make by turning a new leaf with a small change starting deep in my heart?

I come to write. To let each and every person close to me into my heart. Along the way, I've met many great people, built relationships and friendships I value to my core. But I'm bothered. You're only getting a small scratch of my surface.

Did you know I wanted to study journalism? Did you know I used to keep notebook upon notebook expressing every deep desire and muddy pain I felt? It started after I got sick. My best friend started writing while I was in the hospital as an outlet; she didn't know if she'd have a best friend after those dark times. So she wrote. To me. About all her worries, dreams, ambitions and how the normalacy of life didn't quite mean the same when a dear friend balances on the edge of death.

I was moved. I spent hours, all throughout my nights writing how I felt in the hospital. I wrote how it was painful to accept that life was going on outside those walls of the ICU. How all my friend were on tour enjoying Disney with me; why didn't I get that? Why did the Lord put me through this? I wrote how I felt abandoned by Jesus Christ and his Heavenly Father. I wrote how this hard time had made me snap into someone I wasn't proud of.

Struggle (noun): to contend with an adversary or opposing force.

That's an understatement. With every fiber of my body I struggled to heal over those short few months of summer. I fought for something to make me feel like me again. Yet, to this day, there's not quite a cure.

Without suffering, there'd be no compassion. That phrase slapped me right across the face this past year. I was waken from a daze I'd been stuck in for many years, being a degrating and deliberate insult to people. If I didn't agree with someone, they're damned in my book. Where the hell did that get me?? At my lowest point of life. Again, struggling to find answers for my suffering. Grasping at every last straw of friendship that I'd lost. Turning my family away because, "I'm 19 and I know way more than anyone else knows!"

Coming back into the light of the Lord makes things, well, bright.

I suffer so I can relate to other suffering, I suffer to grow as an individual. Had I not suffered those many years back, I can say without a hint of hesitation, I wouldn't be married today. It's by God's grace we love and are loved. It's in His name we go about our days.

This blog has turned into something trendy. Something stressful to me. I came into my corner of the internet to cope with life. To find beauty in everyday life. To cherish those small moments we all take for granted and to embrace the challenges thrown at us. To see myself grow as a woman, wife and mother and to remember I am here because He saved me. I want to be an inspiration of a woman to others, a positive light in dark days, an uplifting thought to keep you going and an encouraging word when that's all you need to hear.

So here I sit in this bed:

coming to you with vulnerability and hope. Hope for an even brighter future. Faith that my Father will guide me with this blog of daily life and dreams to ripple my words to those around me in a way that may change someones life.