I found them hidden away, in a dusty old lockbox that hadn’t been opened for years. I knew they were somewhere, but I had no idea where. A month-long clean out of my closet revealed great treasures, among them, five diaries I’d kept from 7th through 12th grade.

Long before Facebook or Twitter, long before any blogging platform was conceived, there were these old fashioned things called diaries where crazy sentimental people documented every day events. Their deepest, darkest thoughts and feelings were revealed in the forever locked-up recesses of pages for no one to view but themselves. Ya, believe it or not, I was one of those crazy diary keepers.

I didn’t read every word of those five diaries. That would take a day or two. But I learned a lot about myself from what I did read. So how would I summarize my discoveries? The person I am today is fundamentally the same person I was 20-30 years ago. When I step back and make broad sweeping generalizations, it’s pretty remarkable how much I HAVEN’T changed. And it’s phenomenal to see how my past reflected my present.

Curious? Here’s what I found…

So ya, let’s just get that out there. I’ve always been an overachiever, striving to do my personal best. I have to ask myself, why would a 7th grader feel the need to document her grades in her diary if it weren’t internally driven? My only answer is, it’s just who I am, I guess. I want to do well, I’ve always wanted to do well, so be it. Looks like I’ll have to accept that as something that was in me from the start.

I’ve always been detail oriented. In this entry, which I vividly recall keeping for weeks, maybe months, I documented every single shirt a boy-crush of mine owned. What was the point of documenting every single shirt a human being owned, I’m not sure except pure teenage infatuation. The only other explanation is that I am and always have been a detail oriented person. I notice everything, and my brain documents it all, whether I write it down or not. Yep, edging on obsessive, that’s the real, hard truth of who I am.

I like to share my insights, if nothing else for my future self to remember and reflect on. There’s something about the way my brain was wired from the start – I make observations about life, and then I write them down for future reference. In this case, hey, maybe that advice from my teenage self will become valuable four years from now?!

Apparently, I’ve always needed an outlet for processing and documenting my days. The simplicity of this entry tells it all. (And no, I have no idea what the 3 days refers to! Apparently it was important.)

These emotionally charged entries really got me. While the details of what I’d say today would be different, the general feeling is still the same. Ya, still wish people would say what they really think. Ya, still wish people would stop putting off all the things they should do today instead of tomorrow. Yep, still hate it when people are judged by their cover. And yep, still believe the world would be a much better place if people accepted themselves and one another for who they truly are.

This was a power packed page! Where to start? Let’s just forget that first paragraph – complicated, awkward?! And did you note the number one New Year’s resolution from that year? “To be myself (which covers a lot).” Um. Ya. Didn’t I just kick off this month, January 2014, indicating that same desire (re-read When Becoming Yourself Means More Than Just  Bit of Bling)? Maybe it’s time I actually met that goal! And what about the “I really want to be friendly to everybody and make them feel their best. Not that I didn’t do that before, but I really want to do it now.” Interesting. For some reason, this sentence stopped me dead in my tracks when I read it the first time. It tells me there’s something about the way God made me that makes me want to help others feel their best, help them see what’s unique and beautiful about themselves. It’s part of the big-picture goal for my work here on the blog.

OK. I’m a little embarrassed to share this one because it’s a little high and mighty, as if I’m SOOOO beyond high school I can’t stand it. But it provides insight into something I’ve felt most of my grown up life, and that is, I’ve always felt much older than my real age (and LOOKED much younger than my real age). My mom recently reminded me I was walking by 9 months and completely potty trained by 18 months. So I’ve battled this “old soul” feeling for a long time. Perhaps I’ve been given this old soul for a reason?

Fascinating. This is probably the most eye opening diary entry I read. My blog vision page is due for a MAJOR re-vamp, but if you read it as-is today, you will discover the basic vision for this blog is what I wrote in my diary entry 20 years ago. Now if that isn’t telling of God’s working over time in one individual’s heart, I don’t know what is. Why did I have such a strong desire to write that article about lonely, separated, ignored people? I have absolutely no recollection. And why, today, would I state the main purpose of my blog is to provide a voice for people and stories that would otherwise go unheard, untold? These are the little things that make me believe God is real, His desires for my life, unwavering.

So thank you for joining me on this scavenger hunt of a diary discovery! It was a little random, a little kooky, and a little unexpected, but I’m hoping it was as interesting for you as it was fun for me. If you were one of those crazy diary keepers back when, maybe you, too, will take a second look at the words you kept secret. I pray you’ll find hidden treasures that’ll help uncover more of the real you.

Amy

For six or seven weeks, her husband had been working like a dog. Eat, sleep, work was his way of life. And it wasn’t going to end for another two weeks, at least.

She’d been watching the kids and working herself, and she hadn’t forgotten for a second – this was the month she was going to take care of herself.

So she needed to get out. She was desperate to get away, alone, by herself.  This was the day, the one night to treat herself to her favorite things.

Two dear ones had given her gift cards from her favorite store, White House Black Market, for Christmas. They knew her well enough to skip all the other stores and go straight to the one she loved.

But for her, this accepting of truth, this accepting of self hadn’t been so easy, so obvious. Somehow, somewhere along the way, she decided she’d deny her own identity, she’d try to be someone else. She’d scoured the malls in search of the perfect orange carpet dress, only to find herself back there, at home base. Still, she didn’t learn. Months later, she thought other stores would fit the bill for family pictures, well, let’s just say, better. She bought and returned handfuls of clothes from everywhere else but there, only to find herself back there, at the place she loves.

Gift cards to her one and only favorite store were the perfect opportunity. She was just becoming settled in this who she is and who she wants to be. She was ready to turn the page. For no longer did she want to pretend, no longer did she want to search and yearn to be something she wasn’t. She just wanted to go, move beyond the things that held her back, and just be who she was created to be.

So she walked right in to that White House Black Market store. She pulled everything and anything that spoke to her that night – dressy black tunics, gray and tan jeans embellished just right, a silky floral white blouse with long flowing sleeves, dresses and tanks, sweaters, and black and white patterned bustiers.

As she tried on the clothes, she thought for a moment it was all too much, it wasn’t going to work this time. She wanted to run, take it all off, leave empty handed. Because she felt a little fat. She was 5 pounds over her ideal weight, after all. And who did she think she was? A mom of three, works part-time and blogs? Why would she need any of these fancy clothes anyway? Adolescent memories flooded back in. “Why are you wearing tights with dress shorts in the middle of winter?” She wanted to leave.

But she stayed. Because she knew better.

She’d felt like an odd ball all the way through. She’s the one who wore dressy flats when everyone else wore tennis shoes. She’s the one who dressed up when everyone else came in jeans in sweatshirts. She’s the one who stayed in her “church clothes” and didn’t think twice until someone mentioned it to her, while everyone else changed the second they got home.

It took her years and years and years to realize – she wasn’t the elusive “everyone else.”

The messy, beautiful truth of it was that she always knew who she was. God placed that deep in her core. She wanted to deny it, deny the beautiful work he’d set in her from the beginning. Truth was, something in her wanted to deny just about everything He created her to be.

But the time had come. There, in that dressing room, she decided – I’m not running away from who I am. I’m breaking free from the lies I’ve believed so long. I’m good enough, I’m not too much. I’m settling in to who I am, once and for all.

So she gathered up all those black and white things that didn’t work, and hung them back up in that dressing room.

She looked at what was left after all the trying and denying.

She’d found one shirt that was right. In fact, it was just right.

The black jeans were right, too. She’d second guessed herself, had to come out of the closet, look in the mirror again, and stand before another’s affirmations to realize they were, truly, just right.

And the blue jeans, it was just a matter of size. 8 Regular, too long. 10 Short, too big. She just needed the one that would fit her like a glove, 8 Short. Only, they didn’t have 8 Short. She accepted the clerk’s offer to call, the perfect fit found at a nearby store.

So she bought the shirt and the black jeans, thanked the soul kindly and made her way to the second White House Black Market.

It seemed silly, this tending to self, this driving miles for the sake of a pair of blue jeans that fit just so. But she did it anyway, because she needed this tending for her soul.

The blue jeans were waiting. They fit just right.

She’d allowed herself to look once more when she came in. Why not, she thought? Money remained on the cards, and this was the only place it was going to be spent. She’d found a gem of a shirt, one she hadn’t seen at the other store. Black with a big white flower to one side. Medium was too big, Small was just right. The woman with the accent smiled and agreed boldly.

She bought the blue jeans that fit like a glove and the black shirt with the big white flower. $14 remained on the cards. Perfect for spring, when things are made new, she thought.

This place, this White House Black Market, where who she was, who she is, and who she wants to be all come together just so? It’s helped her realize – it’s okay to be you. It’s okay to step into your identity, the truth of who you are. It’s okay, it’s truly okay.

As she pulled the items out of the bags, she noticed it all – the attention to detail, the simple classic design, the sparkles, bold patterns and clean lines, the black and white and even the gray grace she needs more of in-between, the comfort, the familiarity, the way all the pieces go together and make perfect sense. It reminded her of who she was, who she is, and who she wants to be. The 11-year-old girl, the 15-year-old adolescent, the making her way 23-year-old, and the 37-year-old woman all came together. And she knew, it was good.

Amy

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.  Psalm 139:14

Dear Readers,

I’ve referred to God-sized dreams more than once in the 17 1/2 month history of this blog.

For many reasons, I’ve chosen to be vague about my God-sized dreams, both on this blog and in “real life.” It’s been a personal journey, and truth be told, nobody knows ALL the details except me and God.

Two people know the big, sweeping picture of my God-sized dream, one of them my husband, the other a trusted friend who understands who I am.

I’ve sought council from two wise and spiritually mature individuals regarding my God-sized dream. They’ve provided a listening ear, helped me sort things out, and worked me through some practical, emotional, and spiritual stumbling blocks.

I’ve shared glimpses of my God-sized dream with three other individuals who have been more than supportive, but know very little of the real dream.

And I’ll be honest, it hasn’t been all rainbows and butterflies. I’ve learned – not everyone is suited nor ready to hear another’s God-sized dream. Because it is, well, a God-sized dream.

Having a God-sized dream means that deep in my heart, I’m preparing myself to be open, willing, ready, to live out the unique and very best life God had in mind for me when He created me. I’m ready to fulfill His purposes – for me.

While I’ve been more than grounded my whole life, and I’ve always wanted to do what’s right, what’s expected, what’s best, I fully realize that my God-sized dream is truly a little crazy. Let’s face it folks, I’ve learned one thing very quickly – when you really start talking God-sized dreams, you are GOING to feel a little crazy! It’s not going to make sense. It’s going to seem far-fetched, unrealistic, impossible. But because you believe and trust that God wants what’s best for you, you follow His plans, His call anyway.

With all that in mind, it’s time to cut to the chase.

Today, I’ve revealed how tightly this God-sized dream of mind has been held for a very specific purpose. I’m hoping to invite a few of you in a little closer to my dreams. I’d like to form a small group of individuals who would be willing to serve as a support and prayer team for my blog. Because I’ve come to realize I want and need more support on this journey.

I’ve been thinking about this for months. I’ve debated whether I should email individuals who might be willing, or whether I should send an open invitation on the blog. While there are likely at least three, maybe up to six individuals I believe may feel called to take on this role, there may be more I haven’t thought of. That’s why I’ve posted this here today.

So how do you know if you’re the person I’m looking for, and what will I need from you if you join the support and prayer team? Here are some questions to get you thinking…

1) Do you consider yourself a faithful reader of my blog? “Faithful” is relative, but I’d love for you to be an individual who usually reads at least half of my posts, ideally, most of my posts. If you haven’t read most of my posts, have there been at least a few that have deeply moved you, caused you to see differently, convicted you to live your life differently?

2) Do you plan to continue being a faithful reader of my blog?

3) Are you willing to thoroughly read email correspondence from me once or twice a month?

4) Are you willing to pray for me and my God-sized dreams at least once a month (specific prayer requests would be noted in email correspondence)?

5) Do you consider yourself to be wise, intuitive, spiritually mature or spiritually maturing, a little bit creative, open-minded, and willing to hear more details about the unfolding of this God-sized dream of mine? (There are NO age requirements, by the way.)

6) Are you willing and able to keep all communication with me in STRICT CONFIDENCE, regardless of your personal relationship with me, unless I specifically communicate that I’m making public a given piece of information? (If you feel you’d be tempted to share and/or chat with others about my dreams without my knowing, then I’d prefer you not indicate interest. I understand this sounds a little callous, but confidence and trust is important to me at this point in the journey.)

7) Do you have a special heart for me and/or what I’ve shared on this blog to date?

And last, but not least…

8) Do you feel called to this role? Is there something nudging you saying “yes I’d really like to do this,” or “yes this is for me?”

Still reading? Do the above criteria fit who you are? If so, please complete a brief survey here, including your name, email address, and any notes you’d like to leave me, and I will be in touch with you very soon!

PLEASE NOTE: I expect there to be a very small group of individuals who see themselves in the above 8 points. I’m looking for a team of 6-12 individuals at most, so only respond if you’re truly feeling called to do so. Today, as I publish this post, I’m believing there will be at least three that will respond, and that would make me just as happy as 6-12! 🙂

ONE MORE AWKWARD NOTE: I’d prefer to limit the support and prayer team to people outside of my immediate family. My husband is welcome to join if he so chooses, and I will keep him in the loop regardless, but I prefer to keep my immediate family in the loop in more intimate and timely ways as feels appropriate within the context of our personal lives. Extended family is more than welcome to indicate interest.

Amy

One of my favorite bloggers, Holley Gerth, authored the book You’re Made for a God-Sized Dream. Do you have a God-sized dream? Want to know more? Check out Holley’s book, blog, or the new website God-sized Dreams for more information.

UPDATE 1/20/14: A big thanks to the 12 individuals who agreed to serve on my support and prayer team! I’m feeling beyond blessed by the outpouring of your support, and believe I have a complete team at this time. I officially closed the survey on the blog as of 1/16/14, but if you feel strongly and specifically called to join the team at any point in the future, please contact me via email at amybpederson@hotmail.com! Thanks everyone!

One Word.

It’s all the rage right now.

And it’s not just for an elite few anymore. It’s for everyone.

One Word has found its way into mainstream culture. So much so that the Today show featured a segment on One Word last week. In the segment, Jon Gordon, co-author of One Word That Will Change Your Life, explained what One Word is and how to pick your word for the year (watch the clip here).

Didn’t watch the clip? Still don’t understand all the hype about One Word?

Alece Ronzino, founder of One Word 365, describes it best on the OneWord365 website: “Forget New Year’s Resolutions. Scrap that long list of goals you won’t remember three weeks from now anyway. Choose just one word. One word that sums up who you want to be or how you want to live. One word that you can focus on every day, all year long…if you let it, your one word will shape not only your year, but also you. It will become the compass that directs your decisions and guides your steps.”

One Word’s a big deal in the blogging community. I’ve been reading about everyone else’s One Word for 3 1/2 years now, but I’ve never chosen my own One Word.

I wasn’t going to choose One Word this year, either.

But then I got to thinking.

Maybe there’s something to this.

Maybe One Word is just what I need – to provide focus, clarity, direction – for me.

Maybe One Word will bring me closer to a place of peace with who I am.

So I scribbled as I drove.

Quiet. Still. Now. Be.Because I want to be present, live in the moment. I want to know peace.

Seek. Bold. Do. Free. Because I want to break free, step boldly into whatever I’m supposed to do next.

Love. Low. Meet. Grace. Because I want to bend low, freely extending love and grace to myself and others.

Focus. Voice. Know. Truth. Because God wants to lead me. I need to focus on His voice, know His truth.

And that left me with Go. Follow. Trust. 

I could choose any one of them, really. I need all three.

But I’m going to Trust. that I’ll pick the right word and He’ll have my back, no matter what. So I’m letting that one go.

Follow. It’s the word I think I should choose between the two that remain.

Follow. and Go.

But should.

I don’t want to live by should anymore.

Should’s been a burden. Should‘s kept me bound. Should‘s had its day.

So as much as I desperately want to Follow. and will Follow. what I really need to do is just Go.

Because I need to let Go.

Let Go. of pain from the past, let Go. of what should have been, let Go. of what should be.

I need to let Go. of perfectionistic ideals.

I need to let Go. of unrealistic expectations of myself and others. I need to let Go. of that once and for all.

It’s high time I let Go. of having an answer. Let Go. of the feeling I need to be the answer. Let Go. of being a rescuer.

It’s time I let Go. and let the Heavenly Father rescue me.

Let Go. of what was. Let Go. of you should, you could, you totally could. Go. when it’s time to Go.

Let Go. of words when they hurt, disappoint.

Let Go. when words don’t fill, heal, encourage the way I want them to, need them to.  

Let it Go. Let it all Go. Let Go.

Let Go. and Let God.

And then I need to Go.

Ya, I just need to Go.

Go. Get away.

Go. workout.

Go. get some time by myself.

Go. relax. Chill out. Take a metaphorical chill pill, girl.

Go. get some fresh air.

Go. garden some more.

Go. love like wild.

Go. love on the least of these. Go. get joy like I’ve never experienced before. Go. find where I want to Go. again.

Go. where I’ve been called. Go. where I’m being called.

Go. after that God-sized dream. Go. without doubting. Go. without second-guessing. Go. without wondering if I’m simply stuck in a never-ending daydream. Go. because what’s there to lose except my life?

Go. pursue that far-fetched thing. It might actually work.

Go. do that new thing.

Go. try that old thing again.

Go. tell them all the beautiful things they never knew about themselves.

Go. tell them what they really need to hear. Tell them you see them. Tell them you noticed. Tell them they’re loved. Tell them they’ve not been forgotten. Tell them they’ve been heard. Tell them they’re precious, worthy, irreplaceable. Tell them there’s a plan for their life. Ya, Go. Do that. And do it again.

Go. where little girls laugh. And big girls are free to laugh again. Go. Restore the little girl voice.

And don’t forget the vision. Go. Continue becoming the beautiful, old, wise woman.

Let Go. of plan A and plan B. Make room for God’s, plan C.

Go. where you’ve never gone before.

Go. like it matters.

Go. like it’s your life.

Just Go.

Go.

Amy

Who am I?

It’s a question that begs to be asked at the beginning of every new year.

For me, the simplest answer has been this. I strive to do my best, always. I prefer work over play. I notice and tend to every detail. My intuition’s stealth, my insight’s off the charts. I’m responsible, other-oriented, and in my heart, I want to do what’s right.

As I scanned through our CD of family photographs from this fall, trying to find the best picture of myself for the blog, Twitter, and Facebook, I realized something.

My best traits are also my worst traits. Isn’t that the case for most of us?

For five years in a row, we’ve had professional family photographs taken in the fall. The first three years, no problem! I orchestrated coordinating wardrobes for every member of the family without a hitch. You’d never know looking at the photographs, but the past two years, there have definitely been hitches.

You see, the past two years, I’ve been becoming more and more clear about who I am. But this who I am revelation has been colliding with who I was. And as odd as it seems, it hasn’t been easier to live out this new who I am, it’s been harder.

That’s exactly what I realized as I looked through those pictures and couldn’t find a single one I felt completely represented who I am.

Because part of me is still desperately trying to be the old Amy, the who I was. The who I was sort of works, you know? Well, for everyone else, it works. But for me? Not so much anymore.

Let me give you a real life example. I’m warning you in advance, I’m fully aware this is a first world problem, a superficial real-life example. But this example is the reason I’m writing this post in the first place. So here goes…

In the fall of 2012, I had a vision for our family photo shoot. I wanted it to be colorful, playful, casual. I wanted the photos to have a hispter feel, even though we’re totally NOT a hipster family. So I started with the kids. Their outfits were easy. Bright yellow for the baby, pink and green for the 2nd grader, blue plaid for the 4th grader.

Then I started searching for me. Not so easy. You see, I don’t wear much color. And the hipster look or anything close? Totally not me at all. I’ve tried. It just doesn’t work. But I thought I’d try again. This time, it would work. But it didn’t. I’m pretty sure I tried on clothes from every women’s store in the mall, searching for the perfect colorful, cool hipster outfit. Nothing worked, folks. Nothing worked. Between me and hubs, we declined everything I brought home. It just didn’t work. The look, the style just wasn’t me. (Let me just point out, in the meantime, hubs got his whole outfit lined up in no time flat.)

When I’d given up all hope, I reluctantly walked through the doors of my favorite store, White House Black Market. I’d never looked there once in all my searching, because of the obvious – it’s all black and white and totally NOT hipster. I was almost in tears when the clerk approached. I explained the situation and left with the first outfit I tried on. Neutral beige and white, but a whole-lotta style and bling on the ears and neck, totally Amy all around. I promised myself – next year I’m going to dress myself first and I’m heading straight for my favorite store.

As I prepared for our photo shoot in the fall of 2013, I started off on the right foot. I went straight to my favorite store. I was going to set the tone, and determined it was going to include beautiful hues of green and magenta White House Black Market was featuring in stores.

My good intentions went out the door fast. I came home sporting a solid green dress with sparkly green earrings and bracelet, which hubs very politely told me was probably one of the most boring, ugly things he’d ever seen me wear (ok, not his exact words, he wasn’t mean about it at all, but you get the idea.) Keep in mind, I’d already exhausted the store and picked my favorite for the pictures, but I went back a second time, this time returning with a long, luxurious off-white flyaway sweater and patterned green, white and black shirt underneath. Hubs was having a hard time understanding my vision. After desperately trying to coordinate three kids’ outfits to mine with no success, we determined my outfit had to go – again. So I returned it, realizing I was in for a long search – AGAIN. Long story short, I found a shirt from a store I frequented in my high school and college years – it was solid, neutral, with a bit of bling. Hubs indicated I needed a really big, bright pink necklace and big pink earrings. I politely declined the big pink necklace, made a trip to a hipster store, and opted for pink earrings and bracelet the clerk suggested before I’d barely looked myself.

So there I was. Neutral army green shirt with jeans I already owned, a bit of bling. Pretty. But safe. OK. were the words as I looked through the photographs of myself. NOT totally Amy. NOT exactly who I am.

Neutral army green – because it’s always easier to play it safe.

Jeans I already owned – because it’s always best to live predictably.

A bit of bling – because just right is always better than too much, not enough.

The revelation was clear in that moment.

I’m tired of playing it safe. I’m tired of being predictable. I’m tired of doing everything so-called “right.” I’m tired of trying to be any little bit or a whole lot of someone I’m not. I’m tired of feeling like I’m too much, not enough. And let me be clear, I don’t want a bigger than life kind of life.

I want a simpler, smaller, more focused life. I want to discover riches found only in the deep. I want to know in my heart that my life is completely authentic. I want to become more of who He created me to be. I want to be who I am.

So this month, whether I believe you’ll like it or not, whether focusing on myself is the Christian thing to do or not (yes, I’ve debated that exhaustively prior to publishing this post), I’m going to focus on me, what I need to do to become more of who I am. I’ll blog right through it, and hope my journey will spark something new inside of you.

Next month’s going to be a whole-lotta other-centered, and I can’t wait to share that journey with you. But for now, I need a moment to step back and focus on me. Just me.

Amy