I am not who you think I am. You see me as Carly. I am your friends' daughter, sister to three lovely siblings. I am a student, a smart young woman with a passion for words and language. I am involved in church and ministry, a hard worker, a shameless flirt, a born performer, and a reckless pursuant of fun. You see Carly as I want you to see her.
Inside, there is more going on than you might think possible. My thoughts, my hopes, my dreams, my beliefs – could you ever begin to imagine? I doubt it. I sit with you at the table, I roll the dice and play games with you, and you think that you know me. You think that I have things sorted, that God is going to do great things with me. On one hand, you are right. But you have no idea what I have come through or the things that I have experienced on the way.
I do not write to defy: I write to inform, explain. Those who have received much grace know the value of it – I write to illuminate the precious worth of the grace my Savior gave to me. In order to do that, I have some serious spilling to do. So here goes.
I have lived a charmed existence, yes, however it has been fraught with pain and stupidity on my part. I repeatedly screw up and fail, over and over and over again, and always in the same mucky mire. My freshman year of college was both the most wonderful, blessed and the most hellish, tumultuous year of my life. I talk about passion, love, faith, and hope, but frequently I feel like I have none of the above. I want nothing more than for my walk with Christ to consume me like the fire that I have heard about for my entire life, but I let Satan stand a few feet away with a hose, just in case things get too intense. I am more liberal than one might think, more hippie-esque than one might assume, less naïve than my mother would hope. I am impulsive, imperfect, irregular, and irritable, both free-thinking and uncreative, clumsily artistic. I am a walking onomatopoeia, an explosive anomaly, a firework waiting to paint the night sky.
My name is Carly. I define myself through my God, my family, my passion, my writing. I suck, but I serve someone Who is Love, and through Him, I get to find a place in this life that is a little bit more glittery. I am Carly.