Over the holidays I recently sent out a Christmas (okay, by the time I mailed it New Year’s) letter updating friends and family of the highlights of our year. As a homeschooling project, when we do a year end letter, I love to let my girls write an account of their year in their own words, and I fill in tidbits on what’s up with Mr. Wonderful, our business, and me.

We usually get a rave review or two from a family member or friend who’s gotten a kick out of the girls’ often witty and hilarious writings.

However, this year, my dear friend, Miss Ashley, texted me this:

Ahhhh! Absolutely love everyone’s writings! I laughed out loud so many times. Precious! I needed a “Jen’s Corner,” though. David says your hand touched every one of those pages, but I still need a good solid update! Please get back to blog writing, I would read it daily.

I was a little floored and flattered, but even more so I was challenged.

Years ago I wrote and maintained a weekly blog that ran, rather religiously, for 3-4 years. Also around that time, I was trying my hand at seriously writing a novel with big hopes for publishing and making something of myself as a writer.

Everything back then in the writing world was about blogs, and platforms, and social media. Building your following. Collecting likes. Influencing as many readers as possible.

While I loved the writing, eventually, the rest became such a hamster wheel racket, I knew it was no longer for me.

My family, which consisted of two children when I started, had grown to three. Homeschooling was amping up to more than preschool requirements, and we were planning a home building project and subsequent move.

Something had to give, and without much ado I decided it was time to take a break from blogging. I figured a month or two away would be just what I needed and fully planned to resume…but then…I didn’t. Two months turned into twelve months, and twelve months turned into, well, let’s just say a shameful number of years.

All along I have always thought blogging is something I’d like to try again…someday. (Oh my long list of somedays) But with the addition of more babies, and more homeschooling, and more pretty much everything, really, it never felt like the right time.

But Miss Ashley’s words kind of got me. I wrote that whole letter, and never once did it occur to me that, aside from a short quip about how our homeschooling life is going, I relayed nothing about just me. My children and homeschooling are such a big part of my life I guess this is understandable, but wouldn’t it be lovely to have a cozy little window seat in this great big world set aside and reserved for me? My thoughts, my stories, my words, loves, dreams?

Back in the day, I often heard fellow writers say pithy things like, “I am a writer who blogs, not a blogger who writes,” and I thought that accurately described me. Well, turns out, I also see numerous books come across my way that describe dedicated (and I think superhuman) stay-at-home and homeschooling moms who could be described as writers who homeschool.

These Super-Mom types fill me with equal parts inspiration and self-loathing because I haven’t done what they’ve done, and, clearly, I have no excuse.

Thankfully, there is always the Voice of Aslan, echoing in my mind, reminding Shasta (me) that He is telling me my story, not someone else’s.

That chapter of my story hasn’t happened yet. And for now that’s okay.

So I’m a mom who homeschools. And I am a homeschooler who writes, and blogs, and journals, and tinkers around with stories and novels she would love to see in print…here it is again…someday.

And in my heart I know this is the way it has always been and was always meant to be.

I have always wanted to be a writer. Well, always being kindergarten when our neighbor often spied me in the yard with a notebook and pen scribbling away at only The High King knows what. Then again in third grade when I wrote my first poem that actually made sense (and rhymed), and I spent my summer vacation filling notebooks with my first journaling attempts.

But before that I held my baby doll (Betsy) and rocked her and sang to her, and fed her a bottle, and I knew that a handsome husband and a real wiggling baby of my own was what I wanted more than anything.

It was my most beloved and cherished dream. And I’m living it. (Thank you, Mr. Wonderful) Not someday but now, and it deserves my full attention.

Thankfully, The High King is a High King of abundance and He doesn’t insist that I choose. He gave me both gifts, both dreams, both callings.

Motherhood/homeschooling and writing, and the world is a playground in which I can swing and slide and delight in both. (There’s a great CS Lewis quote about doing just that, that and I am unapologetically riffing from).

So why Fairytales and Flannel? While I would love to tell you here, this post, I think we can both agree, is quite long enough. However, if you’d really like to know, please hop on over to my About page where I explain the whole thing in likely more words than necessary.

For now, I will say this. I deeply believe in the importance of Begininng Again, and this time it’s not for the hamster wheel. Not one single word, jot, or tittle of it.

This time it’s for my Miss Ashley, for you (by the way, thank you for spending a few moments of your precious time here with me), for my girls, for Red, for Mr. Wonderful, and Mom & Dad (my lifelong biggest fans).

And above and beyond all it is for my High King, and it is for me.

So cheers to Somedays & Window Seats.

To Christmas Letters & Callings.

To Fairytales & Flannel.

To all things Brave & New.