At the beginning of this summer, I set a goal to write 50 blog posts by September 1st. When I set this goal, I wasn’t consistently blogging or writing. I didn’t even have my blog set up and running on Wildly Well. The other funny thing—I kicked this project off the first week of June. I was getting married in 21 days, finishing the (hundred) final wedding details, winding work projects down before the honeymoon, moving into our new apartment and setting it up (read: nesting), and helping care for my sweet mother-in-law. 

It’s safe to say there was a lot going on. My plate was full, my mind was swamped with details and to-do’s, and I was weary to the bone. So the fact I set out to tackle this gutsy goal—adding what may appear to be another big undertaking to my plate—might seem odd. Crazy. Deranged. Unrealistic. 

But I know exactly why this goal sprang up at this exact time. It was not random or unrealistic—it was healing. It was exactly what I needed. 

I really believe I needed two things with everything going on at the time. I needed a project that was all my own, and I needed to let my creativity and writing flourish. As you’ll read in my key findings below, I discovered that consistent writing and creating don’t drag me down—they lift me up. They put the pep in my step and the sparkle in my eye. They get the hairs on my arms standing to attention and the butterflies in my stomach fluttering. God created me to write, and when I’m not doing it, I don’t just feel off. It’s like I inadvertently say to Him, “Thanks for this nice gift, God, but I don’t think I’m gonna use it. I hope you’re not offended I’ve shoved it in the back drawer of my closet.”

Writing and creating are healing for me, and even if I don’t do anything with the words I’ve written, I honor God in the writing process itself. It’s an act of worship and an embodied way of saying, “Thank you so much for this gift. I will practice it, and I invite you to use it however you wish.”

These are the other lessons, surprises, and observations I experienced along the way. I hope they inspire you to set your own goals and see what God does with them. I think you’ll be surprised by both God and by yourself—we are capable of so much when we set our minds to something finite and take the first brave step of the journey. 

WHAT I’M TAKING AWAY FROM THIS PROCESS 

01. I need writing to thrive.

This exercise showed me that writing consistently allows me to fully step into who I am and how God wired me. It wasn’t the roar of the applause or the high of likes and comments that brought me back to the writing table every day—none of the work was posted or shared anywhere. It was the pure joy of brainstorming, creating, and stringing sentences together that kept me coming back. I felt more “Anna Rose” than I had in a long time. 

02. Having a goal I can point to and measure helps my creative output beyond measure.

I do really well with structure. There was enough time in the summer—three full months—to where I had enough time to accomplish this goal without stressing. It was realistic. Stretching, yes, but still realistic. Setting this measurable goal also helped me push through the writing even when I didn’t feel particularly creative. Creative work is ultimately about being willing to show up, put in the time, and see what happens. The good stuff surfaces after countless ideas have been explored and hours have been spent in the weeds of magic-making.

03. Quarterly goals rock.

It was powerful to choose something specific to focus on for 12 weeks. It seemed to be the perfect amount of time to dig my teeth into it, and also enough time not to be overwhelmed, scared, or paralyzed by how much work I still had to do. There was breathing room in the goal; there was time to be human and still live my life, see friends, and be a present wife.  

04. Creativity begets creativity.

The more I wrote and sat down with a fresh page, the more ideas, thoughts, and “Ah, what about this?!” moments fired off like fireworks. Getting in a rhythm of consistent creating opens a vault in our brain. Suddenly, we’re sifting through “what ifs” and “how about this?!” to find treasure. 

05. Being a writer isn’t some fancy title or dream job.

When I’m writing every single day, I am a writer. That’s the qualification. That’s the process. That’s what being a writer really is. It’s not any fancier or easier than that; it just is. Sometimes I think we romanticize certain jobs/people/industries, but at the end of the day, when we take steps to do something… we’re doing it. Sometimes things are a lot simpler than I make them in my head. 

06. Sometimes creativity and writing need structure.

I’m not saying this is true all the time— we certainly need space to paint a jagged picture or blurt out a poem without a goal or purpose. But other times, especially for those of us who do this for a living, we need a target to chase. Being a writer doesn’t mean I can sit around in moody coffee shops talking about how awesome it is to be a writer. It means I sit down and do the work, wrestle words onto the page. This clear-cut goal of 50 posts helped me focus and kept me motivated to reach the finish line.

07. I’m really proud of myself.

I hope you know me well enough by now to know this isn’t a self-righteous, puffed-chest sort of proud. I am so proud of the diligence, strength, and discipline I saw within myself as I put pen to paper nearly every single day. I am so proud of how I pushed through the few dry creative spells I experienced—the couple of weeks that felt like I’d already written everything there was to write. There’s a rewarding satisfaction that only comes from diving into something headfirst. I’m proud I jumped in with my whole heart and stuck with it. Following through on my own goal showed me that I have my own back, which hasn’t always been the case.