Rebecca K. Reynolds

Honest Company for the Journey

The best internet bio I've ever read was written by a former editor of mine. He posted a photo of himself in India, and in the text blocks where everybody else had listed a bunch of degrees and qualifications, he said something like, "Hi. I'm Mark. This is a picture of me in India wondering if the chicken I just ate is about to revisit me in an unpleasant way."

I've never been to India, though I have eaten bad chicken. I'm not going to tell you about that right now, though.

You'll probably want to know the normal stuff... that I've been married to my husband for twenty-one years; I'm a mom of three amazing kids; and I teach high school literature and philosophy during the work week. I've also been in one ministry or another for about twenty years, so I'm pretty sure no confession you could make could shock me.

If you lived next door, you'd find out that when I'm in a creative funk, I forget to match my sweatpants to my flannel shirt. I'm one of those introverts who can extrovert (verb) on demand, but fakey women's events can give me huge hives on my neck. I forget to put stuff back in the refrigerator sometimes, and right now I'm sitting in a leather recliner with an big old hole in the seat watching over my daughter, who just had her wisdom teeth cut out. I also ate four jalepeno poppers for breakfast, which was not a good decision.

I tend to stay up too late looking up stuff I'll never need to know on the internet, I get all feisty when I see the weak being taken advantage of by the strong, and gosh, I love fresh raspberries. Have you ever had cranachan? It's Scottish. I just got goosebumps thinking about it.

There's another poet online with my name. People confuse us. I'm not the Rebecca Reynolds who wrote The Daughter of the Hangnail. 

If you've seen me here and there around the internet, then lost me, then found me here... well, that's because for years I've been avoiding developing a platform, and a brand, and all that stuff writers are supposed to have.  I've already taken down one blog because people started reading it, and I got scared to be known.  It's just kind of weird, you know? Throwing yourself out to the whole wide world?

But over the past few years, a couple of people who love me have helped me get some heart-level peace about what I think God has probably put me here on planet earth to do. And really that doesn't have so much to do with me as it does to do with you.

I've been praying for you, see, and asking God to help me feel some of what you are carrying. And since He seems to be doing that, writing on this blog doesn't feel like business so much any more. It doesn't feel like trying to get attention, or like trying to become famous... it feels like just reaching out to a friend or two in need. So you. You're why I'm here. You're what's keeping me from running away this time.

I have the sort of personality that tends to feel a lot, think a lot and question a lot. That might overwhelm you if you are pretty matter-of-fact about life. I hope not. Sorry if I do. The good news is, in all of my storms, Jesus keeps chasing me down and dusting me off, whispering His love over me. That's the kind of security that makes honesty possible in an unsafe world. I'm learning this slowly, but sometimes I still forget it.

I'd like to get to know you, too.  Thanks for stopping by. God loves you so much, and I'm looking forward to loving you with Him.