G’Day! I’m Tara…

…and I’m late to the party, but after years of twisting myself into a pretzel trying to figure out whether I could make the time to commit to Substack, finally, I just… surrendered.

There is always time for matters most, with no exceptions. Perhaps it just takes us a little more than a beat to own up to what matters, to order our affections appropriately and then move with generosity.

By way of brief introduction, I’m a 38-year-old mother of two young children living on the Gold Coast, Australia. My husband is an impossibly handsome American man, and if you can believe it, we met in Lake Como, Italy. (Certainly a story that deserves its own post someday.) Our sweet son—our eldest—turns five this year, and we still haven’t figured out how to live out our lives as the international family we are—certainly more time in the States beckons.

In December 2023, I gave birth to our daughter, Vera, and God began a seismic work in me that feels foolish to keep to myself.

In my history, you will find all the telltale signs of an eldest daughter. I’ve been:

• Hyper-responsible since childhood

• Reading emotional weather like a psychic

• Over-functioning in group activities and sports

• Resistant to rest

• Quietly running on burnout

• Struggling to ask for help and let go

  … which can all lend itself to striving, over-achieving, and chasing peak experiences, for better or worse.

But if you further examine the files that comprise my memory in my rearview mirror, you’ll find that an extraordinary pattern interrupt occurred on July 20, 2022.

I had an encounter with Jesus.

I gave my life to him and started living for him.

His grace transformed my life. Nothing was left unmarked by his fingerprints.

My life—once tangled in the lies of self-idolatry—became drenched in repentance and revelation of the God who made us. His love soaked me and saved me, and though I fight the good fight every day (hey, it’s a spiritual war out here!), I’ve never been the same since.

And so, I will write.

I will write to remember.

I will write to hand something down.

I will write to flesh out a thought and follow it until it’s complete. I must write to righteously rebel in a culture demanding short-form content that creates short-form attention spans. I will write because I want my brain back.

I will write because I need a fresh start, set free from an Instagram persona.

I will write to Vera, because one day she’ll have questions, and I want her to know where our help came from. I want her to see the thread of grace that pulled her mother out of the pit and set her feet on solid ground.

But I will also write to you, Dear Reader — the one weary, curious, or craving more. Maybe you’ve been trying to hold everything together, under the lie that you could. Perhaps you’ve been chasing beauty, meaning, and truth in places that don’t truly satisfy.

I will write to hold the door an inch ajar for pre-believers who have yet to taste and see that He is good. (I do this knowing he is standing at your door and knocking; Revelation 3:20)

This space, Dear Vera, is where I’ll pour out what’s been poured into me. It’s a place for letters, stories, honest reckonings, big questions and quiet revelations. It’s where I trace the hand of God in the ordinary, and name what I nearly missed.

When I first learned about this platform, I was taken by Substack’s statement: We believe writing is inherently valuable. I do, too. Social media has encouraged us to work for free, especially in the arts. I appreciate a platform where writers and readers can consider this a worthy investment. Dear Vera is a paid publication. I will, on occasion, publish posts open to the public, but would be delighted to see you join us for the full experience. My paid subscribers will receive access to:

• All posts, with new posts weekly

• Ability to comment and engage with the community

• Submit questions for exclusive Q&A opportunities

• You’ll be the first to hear about any progress this publication makes, including incorporating different media to give the topics more colour. I have some wonderful things in the pipeline.

I hope you find breaths of fresh air here.

I look forward to a long and lingering time with you on Substack.

Tara.