So Jonah arose and went to Nineveh, according to the word of the Lord.
Jonah 3:3

Dear friends,

I write this with tears in my eyes. As Need to Breathe plays into my headphones, I read Jonah’s journey over and again. It’s a disgusting journey, really. It’s the only book of the Bible that includes anyone living inside a giant whale, being vomited up, a worm . . . just gross, you know?

But this is the thing about Jonah, the truth I can’t shake: I’m a Jonah. And my life? Well, I’ve abandoned my calling more than a time or two. I’ve run in the opposite direction from where I knew I was supposed to go. I’ve tried on any other ministry: chaplaincy, teaching, church ministry, throwing parties, blogging, leading Bible study, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. I went through a d.y.i. phase that resulted in a closet full of craft supplies and half-finished projects. I have a shop on etsy.com that I have never opened.

As I’ve run from the calling haunting me marrow-deep, I’ve spent my time in the bellies of a few whales. I’ve been barfed up and puked on. I’ve sat in protest outside the city gates and refused to obey.

Why? Because to follow the calling I’ve been given might mean I have to change. It might mean that I am doing something that no one I know is doing, and that scares me. It might mean that I must say no to a life of people-pleasing and fuzzy boundaries. It might mean that I have to stand out and apart. And, by the way, when I stood up and had that moment with Beth Moore in February? Um, yes, I blubbered. Real cool. Just what you want in a writer and speaker, Lord. Really?

But I am so tired of whale bellies and vomit. I’m so tired of sitting in the hot sun in refusal. So I am doing this obedience thing, people, whatever it takes.

I’m trusting God with Red Vine. So, I apologize if the paces slows around here for awhile. Please make sure you’re signed up to receive posts via email, as they will not be very consistent the next few months.

And, please, Red Vine family, will you pray for me? Writing this book about my Bipolar journey is like submerging myself underwater every time I sit down at my lap top. But I would rather drown following orders than be in another whale belly. Seriously. Gross.

I love you all and am so, so grateful!

Love,
Taylor