It has been almost two years since I have written on this platform. That is wild to me, but also makes a lot of sense. The post I wrote previously to this one was at the very beginning of Covid, March 2020. I remember sitting at my kitchen table, at our old house, enjoying – albeit with a teaspoon of potential impending doom – an extended spring break. This was the very first mitigation effort that affected me, and it is so crazy to think how we had no idea what the next two years would hold. That was definitely a good thing.
I hope you might go back and read that previous post, because it is fascinating to me how my writing in that moment captured how I was feeling at the time and foreshadowed what would in many ways wind up being the most isolating two years of my life. In that post I reframed this reality as an opportunity to engage in the practice of solitude with the Lord. I accepted that invitation at some turns, not at others.
From Covid shutdowns, quarantines, and “bubbles,” to pregnancy excluding me from some activities, the loss of a friend group, moving onto the military base where many people can’t come, and then the newborn stage, I have walked these past two years through more days alone than I have before in my life. And while my introversion makes it so that I really don’t mind being alone much of the time, it would be foolish to act like this time has not affected me in complex ways.
I asked Sean the other night where he sees himself in five years. Usually, I love asking open ended and tough questions like this to people because I enjoy hearing their answers. But that night I asked because I had been thinking for myself about this question earlier in the day. We had a good talk about our hopes and dreams for the next few years. One of mine is to work toward having a functioning writing ministry.
But if there’s anything the last two years have taught me, it’s that when the metaphorical poo hits the metaphorical fan, my creativity often shuts off, and I go into survival mode. Why is it that, when we are most stressed, the things that go out the window first are often the essential things to who we are and how we can be healthiest? Things like prayer and Bible study, exercising, eating well, and the things that bring us joy and fulfillment – for me, writing – are usually the first to go.
As Covid came barreling onto the center stage of our lives, I innately recognized this tendency and, as though with my final breaths of air, wrote a post to myself as one might be thrown a life preserver. It was a valiant effort, but I didn’t end up grabbing it, not fully. It has been all I could do to stay afloat the past few years. I don’t think I’m alone in this experience, although more than just Covid has led to this in my own life.
So here we are, two years later, and I feel like I’m finally trying to come up for air. For me, that looks like reengaging in the things that bring me joy and the things through which I try to bring others joy. One of those things for me is writing. And as I pondered what I hope my life looks like in five years, one of the things that stood prominent was working toward publication. To do that, I need to keep writing and serving those who want to read. I’m going to try to be more faithful in that call, starting right here. I hope you’ll subscribe to this blog and join me as I commit more fully to a career as a writer.
My hope is that this can be a place of weekly encouragement for all the amazing women in my life who have helped me stay afloat the past two years (and long before, but especially recently) when I have had little to offer in return. Here, I write for the Rachaels and Heathers, who have given over and over and over when I had nothing to give back during pregnancy and the newborn stage. I write for the Amandas and Jaclyns, whose wisdom is always just a text away, even when it’s been a minute. I write for the Mals and Bekas, who are learning alongside me to put Jesus first in our lives in a practical, authentic way. I write for the Stephs and Jesses, who are teaching me to mom in a way that honors the Lord, our families, and our friends. I write for the Katies and Jens, who are walking through some of the hardest moments of our lives so far, but don’t want to go through a second of it without Jesus.
I write for you, friend, because I would not have survived the past few years without my sisters.
Here, I write for you, friend, because I would not have survived the past few years without my sisters, and I suspect the same may be true for you. Authentic, enduring, and faithful sisterhood has quite literally changed my life, and I just want to spend a part of my days celebrating that and cheering on the women in this amazing Jesus-family who have done so much for me.
My mission through this platform of Your Sister, Kimber is to encourage women to live lives steeped in authentic community and to give them the tools to make that a reality. I want to help you grow closer to Jesus and welcome him into the mundane, dusty, and dimly lit corners of your everyday life. I want to help you experience how the gospel can impact how you spend your days, who you spend your time with, and what you talk about when you do.
If you’d like to join along, just enter your email below. There is for sure space for another sister at this table.
Welcome home, my sister. I hope it feels comfy, safe, friendly, and fun here – like plopping down onto your sis’s squashy couch with a cup of hot coffee…but more about that on Thursday. I’m so glad you’re here.
Love ya, friend.
Your Sister, Kimber
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