“Hey, I’ve been thinking about you every morning!”

As always, her intentionality and love touched me.

“Thanks, Grandma you don’t know how much that means!”

“I’ve been receiving this devotional magazine for a few months now and every morning when I read it, I think of you and think ‘this is what Olivia needs to be doing! She has the gift of words and should use them like this!’ ”

Both my grandmas have been so supportive of my writing endeavors. When I told my Grandma Mae about the contract I received for the book “The Boy who Survived the Night,” she said: “Oh, Praise the Lord! I’ve prayed for this every morning!” I knew that she had; the blessing of her endless prayers resting on my soul like the dawning of the sun on a chilly morning.

*Cue the tears*

“I hadn’t really ever thought about doing anything other than the book I’ve worked on for the past decade! I’m not sure I have time or creativity for anything else. That’s a really sweet thought, though! Thank you!” I brushed off her suggestion in the moment.

After I got off the phone with her though, her words kept staring at me, like a dog who just really wants a good scratch behind the ears; I felt its eyes on me, even when I wasn’t looking. The more I thought about her suggestion, the more I felt the nudging to try.

So, I did.

Sitting down one day, I thumbed through the “writing guidelines” for a magazine that I had followed on Instagram for a while called Joyful Living. Their photography and words were stunning, their marketing pristine and the whole heart behind the publication was genuine. Being featured in their magazine would be a dream!

As I read the heart of their upcoming issue “Adventure,” a very personal story that I had been wrestling with emerged to the surface of my mind and I felt the need to just “get it out.”

So, I did.

Sitting down at my laptop, I blurted out a story that had first begun as an Instagram post years before. It was about one of the rawest journeys of surrender that I had traversed. It was a story that dove into the recesses of my motives, my dreams and what I believed to be the overarching calling of my life. It was about a difficult season in my marriage.

Once I completed it, it felt like a weight was lifted. I was a little uncertain about publishing something so personal, but in a spurt of fearlessness and with a shrug (because I didn’t really think it would be accepted anyways), I submitted it. As I went through the submission process, I got to the part about social media.

*Gulp*

As far as social media went, I barely had a presence at all. I had deleted it all the year before after a difficult season because I needed a respite. Once I landed a publishing contract however, I hoped that I could skate by, becoming a bestselling author, without any social media at all.

What a sweet summer child, I was.

I knew it was unrealistic and that I was placing far too much faith in what God could do, rather than the hard work of stewarding a gift He had given me to develop. I knew social media was just one of those “necessary evils.” My publisher expected it and I knew I would be required to have social media sooner or later, but I had been putting it off.

Why, you ask? Because I was scared of the whole “social media” world and how addicting it was. I was scared it would take my valuable time away from my family. I was scared that it would make me less authentic and more generic. I was scared of being another voice calling into the wind, being unnoticed and unwelcome. I was scared of failure.

Yet, in that brazen moment of fearlessness, I did the hard thing and started a writers Instagram account, before the brave wore off. I did it with not only incentive, but also with direction- the direction of hoping to catch the eye of the publication that I had just submitted to (if they came to check me out by some act of Providence and Providence alone).

Then a few months later, I received an email that both surprised and delighted me. It said I had been accepted into the publication for my piece called “Daring to be Ordinary!”

*Cue happy dance*

Here we are and this magazine is coming out THIS MONTH and I’m absolutely thrilled to be featured in its stunning pages! I also am so excited to share it with YOU!

Since that conversation, my writing life that seemed to be so benchmarked with “no’s” has bloomed into beautiful “yes’s!” Not only did I receive the opportunity to be in the magazine of my dreams, but I also am no longer afraid of social media and *dare I say it* I’m enjoying my time there. I’ve connected with the most incredible, creative and kind people who have been nothing but a gift and I have enjoyed creating in a more public way.

As I reflect back on my Grandmas gentle nudging that started the whole process, I have to chuckle. I’ve always leaned on the advice that says: “don’t do something just because your mom and Grandma think you’re great at it- you need a professionals opinion to be of value.” While I understand that those we love are biased and may not have a valid sense of reality when it come to us and our gifting’s, I want to call this advice hogwash. I think it takes those around us who love us, to see the gold in us that we do not. I think it takes eyes of love and faith, to call forth our destiny and our calling, when perhaps we’re running from it out of fear. I think that it takes the support of those nearest and dearest to us, to even make it in this world where the odds are so stacked against us and the road before us so daunting, that their belief in us is perhaps the only thing that keeps us going. I think that we all should listen to our Grandmas, far more often.