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The years I spent trying to be June Cleaver all blur together like the landscape on a long road trip. I was so busy parenting and striving to be a great homemaker that (somewhere along the way) I lost myself. I was Mark’s wife, Jessica’s stepmom, and my sons’ mom. I was a robot serving needs, never allowing God to teach me who I was in Him. I had people to please, decorating to do, and kids to teach.

Then one day, I began daydreaming about writing a book. It seemed like a crazy idea. My grammar had always horrified my English teachers. I was a mom of three with a lifetime of bad decisions. What business did I have writing a book?

A few weeks later, I did what anyone with a dream does. I Googled it. The results were depressing. Apparently, if I wasn’t famous, infamous, or well-networked, publishing a book was a no-go. I kept searching and read that another option was to build a popular blog. Of course, my next search was, “What is a blog?”

It took a year to start that first blog because I didn’t know what to say. I finally decided to write about what I knew: my family, my interests, and my faith. Who knew anyone would actually read it? But they did.

I spent the next year building an online business. I never let my fear of failure stop me. Along the way, I began to realize we are each called to do something great. And even if the circumstances are difficult, discovering what we were created to do is a gift.