Wow. Who knew dust could collect on urls? ourlittlejoural.com is looking pretty vintage and cobweb-y. Like the Beanie Babies in my parents’ attic. Maybe also a little like my brain.
But there’s nothing like a new number at the end of the date to bring my attention back our little corner of the internet. Our little journal. Five years ago, I started this whole blogging thing. And by golly, I’m not gonna let it die. So here we go. 2019.
As I write this, it’s New Year’s Eve and 2018 is barely hanging on. Kyle is working, Charlie and I are snuggled under blankets watching Gilmore Girls, and I’d be lying if I said I don’t feel frantic—panicked, even—about 2019. The year I turn 29. The year I have no idea what will happen. Zero plans. Zero to look forward to at the moment. And I get a little stir-crazy when that happens. Like I need to hurry up and book a flight or figure out what’s next with our family. Find the answers.
And gently, He reminds me. It’s not all up to me. I can trust Him. Hold on. I’m safe.
That’s my word for the year.