The Purpose of All This

For about a year, I've striven to be joyful.

That may sound weird to you, but trust me, it's an uphill battle. I'm the kind of person who zones out for five minutes at a time because it's better than staring at a wall with complete lack of motivation. I'm the kind of person who doesn't look people in the eye when I talk to them because it makes me uncomfortable and it might make them uncomfortable, too. I am not very enthusiastic about a lot of things.

Not that I don't find enjoyment in anything. I love to read, I love to write, I love music and art and human faces. I enjoy these things, sure, but I don't rejoice in them.

I want to live. That's the bottom-line issue. I want to taste the rain and clench the grass between my fists. I want to scrape paint from windowpanes and sing loudly in the kitchen. I am tired of silent staring, tired of looking anywhere but at the person looking at me.

I, a teenage girl healing from depression and social anxiety, want to laugh uninvited and look into the eyes of my friends. 

So I am documenting my bits of Joy, the Pieces Of My Days. I am typing my thoughts, and handing them out, however timidly. Because I want to have a life, a personality, and I want people to see it. I want them to see that I love black ink and clay-pink rocks and dragon scales and the cursor blinking on my computer screen. 

So, I make this my temporary mission: to bring glory to God by noting the wonders He allows me to see. I will be Joyful-with-a-capital-J in His presence, no turning back. This is this purpose of this blog, to tell of the miracles I witness in my mediocre day-to-day-ness.

Grace and peace to you,
Erin