Who Are You?

"I am a freelance writer."

Those words are rolling off of my tongue a little easier these days, but I still pause before I say them.

You see, I was something else for a lot of years, so my old answer is still the first answer on the tip of my tongue.  

And there is this annoying, awkward gap between the time it takes that answer to form itself on my tongue and the time it takes my heart to remind my brain that I am something different.

A gap that causes a very pregnant and sometimes awkward pause.

Also, saying you're a freelance "anything" sounds like what people say when they don't have a real job.  (Especially if I say it right after a very pregnant and awkward pause) :)

You know, 'cause in the back of my mind I'm saying, "I work from home in my jammies with a laptop."

But as I was praying this morning, and I was thinking about all of this, I realized that I keep saying I "am" this and I "was" that, as if I am somehow defined solely by my vocation.

I work as a freelance writer.  I used to work as a pastor.  Prior to that I worked as a teacher and prior to that a business executive.  But who I am at my core is the same.

I'm still Carol Jones.  Wife to Mike,  mother of four incredible kids and one god-given daughter-in-law, Jesus lover, daughter, friend, mentor, and child of the King.

I am neither a subtotal of my mistakes, nor am I solely defined by the work I do.  Those are pieces of me, certainly.  They add color and description to a beautiful tapestry that God is weaving.

All that to say, who are you?


  1. LOL. Are you sure, Kate? Because Kenneth calls you Princess. Or is it Precious? I can't remember. :)

    1. Oh, yes, I'm sure. I try to do one badass thing per day. Today I rescued some rabbits from being eaten by a large python.

    2. Oh, and for the record, Kenneth calls me "Precious."

  2. Yep. That's pretty badass, Kate. Were the rabbits already in the python's mouth. Because one time, this lady I worked with, she grabbed a snake up by it's tail and literally shook the shrieking frog from it's throat.


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