Author Archives: Jenna

New writerly website

It ain’t that pretty yet . . . but I did it.

I’ve been thinking about starting a website specifically for my writing for a while. Finally, last week, I was like, ‘what the heck.’ I mean to get my books out there some day, somehow. I take myself seriously enough as a writer to keep writing books. I’ve really (really!) enjoyed reading blog posts by other writers on their writing sites (seriously, the writing community online is so awesome, positive, supportive and awesome). So why not do a website now?

Especially before that other Jenna Satterthwaite snatches up the domain name jennasatterthwaite.com. (Really–she’s out there. Hi! I wish you no ill. I just wanted that domain for myself.)

So I did it. A couple hours, forehead-wrinkling searches on what the heck ‘hosting’ means, forehead-wrinkling questions about why I don’t know this already and fifty bucks later, my first post was up.

Thought you should know.

Also, I won’t abandon this blog–I’ll just be posting about writerly stuff over there. Feel free to follow along!

Living in the middle of the story

It’s always easier to write about completed journeys.

And I love reading about them! Ben was sick . . . now he’s healthy. I was miserable . . . now I’m happy. I was querying my novel . . . now I’m published and a movie of my book is being made AS WE SPEAK (not).

I was . . . now I am.

But when you’re in the midst of something, sometimes it’s hard to even know how to talk about it with others–or even to yourself. There’s not always a particular lesson you can share. A particular feel-good point you can make. There’s definitely no satisfying conclusion. So how do you talk about journeys you’re in the middle of?

I think it requires a particular kind of vulnerability to say, I haven’t arrived. There are no guarantees I even will. In fact, the arrival point may have been a mirage to begin with.

But I find that when I can be honest about where I am, there’s a kind of freedom.

Because, isn’t that life? A story that’s never complete? A story with twists and turns you can’t see around?

Does the road straighten out ahead–does it dip, or climb? You just don’t know.

I want to get better about talking about that–the uncertainty, the lows, and yes, the sometimes sadness.

After all, who am I keeping up appearances for?

Myself, maybe. At the root of it. There’s a version of myself I happen to really like–confident, creative Jenna. The Jenna who’s getting stuff done, making healthy meals, finishing manuscripts, putting herself out there, connecting with people at heart-level, eating sushi, crying when a good song plays and devouring incredible books. And overall, having energy for it all–for my family, my friends, my creative projects. That’s the essence of it–somehow who’s overflowing with abundance at a soul-level.

Is that me? Yes.

The true me, at least. The me I was made to be.

Is that me today? Doesn’t feel like it.

I suppose there’s a fine line between keeping up appearances and striving to be your best self. Between being true to ourselves and honest about our particular point in the road. Between not questioning the essence of who we are–but allowing ourselves to be complex and nuanced and messy and unresolved humans.

Without God in the picture, this is where my thoughts devolve into a big mush.

Thankfully, God.

Which I think leads me here:

Ultimately, I am a work in progress–His work. Which I participate in every day. He has made me new–but I am not perfect. He has given me an essence–creative, an enjoyer of things, a lover of people–but I will not realize that fully every day. Ultimately, that’s okay. Because though I am weak, He is strong. Though I am lost, He is not. Though I can’t see the path, He can. Though I can’t see the purpose to feeling stalled-out, He has promised to make everything purposeful for those who love him. I am convinced that He will waste nothing–not a single tear or stalled-out minute–but will use it all (even my imperfection) to wind my story more tightly into His. Which is a story of salvation, redemption, beauty after ashes, strength in weakness. A story that ends around a dinner table with aged wines and delicious, rich food, laughter instead of tears, happy faces and full stomachs. With family.

So I’m on a path. I have no idea what life holds for me–or even the next hour. But I do know how the story ends, and the One who’s guiding it.

That’s the arrival point. Not feeling happy again (though I hope to), not getting published (though I hope to), not achieving this or that . . . but ending it all around that table where I’ll look into the eyes of the One who loves me best and say, ‘here I am.’ The place I was headed all along, even when it felt like I was sitting still.

It’s okay that I’m sad right now. It’s okay that I’m hitting bumps in the road with my creative process. I don’t know what part it plays, but I have a God who turns the otherwise pointless, the sad, and even the tragic into something new.

And I can’t wait to get to his dinner table.

Though I plan on enjoying all the dinner tables on the way there.