The Fledgling

The fledgling.

Mother nudges, gently at first, then more forcefully.

You will come to the edge. You will fly. You will learn to spread your wings. Your courage will be greater than your fear. You will be what God created you to be.

The fledgling.

Falling. Falling fast. Falling faster.

Wings spreading and stretching. Flapping. Flapping. Catching the current.


Rising higher. Rising and rising.

The fledgling soaring.


In almost every way just now I am the fledgling--fledgling writer, fledgling employee, almost fledgling mother and certianly fledgling adopter--everything in life feels on the precipice of soaring.

Even you being here. Reading here. Reading a blog with my name and no one else's in the url.

How did my little Blogger grow so quickly? How did we get here to this place where this writing thing is becoming bigger than I dreamed?

Here I am at three named writer.

Amanda Peterson and Patrick Dempsey in Can't Buy Me Love

Amanda Peterson and Patrick Dempsey in Can't Buy Me Love

It was a decision I made in a moment because was expensive. I mean really expensive. I can only assume they're waiting for the same named 80s teen idol of Can't Buy Me Love to join her famous co-star Patrick Dempsy and make a return to the limelight. (I get a lot of traffic from her fan sites.)

But no way. I'm not paying that.

So here I am...Amanda Erin Peterson.

Credit where credit is due, my parents named me well. Named well, despite the great renaming of 1st grade when I decided I would from here after be called Amanda and would no longer respond to my middle name as I had done for the first seven years of life. (Sorry, Mom, for all the tribulation I put you through. What you must have then realized about the woman I would become--headstrong and obstinant to the very end. Would I have been so adamant if I actually realized then just how many other Amanda's there are in the world and what horror it is to be called "Mandy"? No discrespect to anyone who actually likes being called Mandy.)

Although it was a in the moment decision, no regrets about being a three name writer. No worries of it being a bit too pretensious or over the top. It's a strong name. It's a good name. And now it's a writer's name.

Fledgingly though I may be, it feels like soaring to write my first post in a new interface and to know it will post to my very own website, with my very own design and my very own words.

And I'm saying a small prayer. Asking a small thing: Papa God, won't you use this small space to point to you. Won't you make this small space a space of radical love and simple living. Won't you make this small space a space of hospitality and community and generosity. Papa God won't you, as your good child Mother Teresa said, make me the pencil in your hand.