Writing as Gods Plan

I am certain I never looked at this writing "thing" as a big plan that God had for my life. Until now. Maybe it is because my babies are in school and I have more time to write. Maybe it is simply because now is the time God planned for me to really wake up and realize what He wants me to do with my life. Whatever the reason, I am amazed and overwhelmed. In seventh grade I picked up my first journal. The 25 years since then have been quite some journey.

The blank page was something I could never leave untouched. It always called out to me to fill it. Back then, being young and having no relationship with God, I thought it was just a great place to vent my adolescent fears. And it was. I didn't really know how to pray, so I wrote, griped and complained my way through junior high.

In high school I was "lucky" enough to have an English teacher that sought to encourage my writing. I entered contests and won. Something I never would have done had she not told me she thought I could. Still, it was all luck to me, I had yet to understand someone else was in control! With college came great discouragement as two separate professors basically told me to give up on writing altogether. Begrudgingly, I went to my journal and wrote all about how I thought I should give up and find something practical to do with my life.

And I did. And, through what I thought was my own abilities, I was successful. But I wasn't writing. One day, probably eight years ago, my husband came home from work and threw a newspaper in front of me. It was an article about a local Massachusetts woman who had quit her corporate career to write books.

"This," he told me, "is what you need to do."

So I did. All the while thinking I was in control, and never once stopping to pray about my decision, I began writing books for children. Picture books filled my mind. I had such good intentions behind them, building family ties, character, and confidence in little children would be my goal. But the key was, that was MY goal. Several years went by, four in fact, and nothing ever happened with either one of the books. I was frustrated beyond belief. Part of that frustration led to a series of events in our lives that led me to the Lord. I won't say life was instantly easier, but life was instantly BETTER! Once I had this experience, this life changing, positive, wonderful relationship with God (the one He had so kindly waited all those years for), I wrote a story about my experience. It was immediately published! God is so good! Then, I wrote another article about how my faith had led me to be published and THAT article was published also...all because I was glorifying God.

Luckily for me, the growth process didn't stop that year that I was saved, nor did it stop any of the times I have been blessed enough to have my work published. As a writer, I find I am only now coming to some basic realizations. One is that this ability or love I have for writing is a gift from our Great Creator, and if I don't use it, I am wasting what He gave me. That beautiful lesson comes from Julia Camerons "An Artists Life". A tool that has helped me tremendously in realizing how God plays a role in my writing. Another thing I have learned through my constant quest to be a better writer is that William Blake also realized his artistic abilities came straight from the Holy Spirit. For reasons I can't explain, this motivates me even more.

I sat across a desk today from my next door neighbor Robert Anderson, an established artist and devout Christian in his own right, he expressed to me how I was meant to do this and how, just by the fact that I was in his library scouring his collection for every William Blake piece I could find, that I was already on the road to doing what I needed to do, to becoming who God wants me to be. The fact that I am living in a barn in the middle of the mountains, next door to a person with his artistic ability only further convinces me that this is the road God meant for me to be on.

Autumn Serenity

As I look around, I find it hard to believe I have been blessed so much as to be able to sit in a place like this and write. I am in the middle of a cleared out field, probably about seven glorious acres. Beyond the field, everywhere I look, trees are on fire with orange leaves blazing. Even further still the Blue Ridge Mountains are beginning to light up as well, in various shades of reds, yellows and orange.

Better still, I sit here in work out clothes..a short sleeve shirt and Capri pants, a feeling I can't get used to having come from Massachusetts. According to the computer, it was 38 degrees there this morning and will be a good 13 -15 degrees cooler for the next five days at least. How grateful I am that God put it on our hearts to move here. And not just for the weather but for many reasons. The pace...slower than a turtle waking up from a deep nights sleep. People may question that being a good thing, but coming from New England where I always sensed a need to be on the go, fighting to finish a never ending list of things to do, this is heaven.

The people...hard to believe, but they still give pedestrians the right of way, allow folks to pull out in traffic, and possibly the best part, people always give a considerate wave after the good deed has been done. Most times, I even find strangers driving down the road waving at me over their steering wheels, even though I have no idea who they are.

I can breath here. Maybe it is the trees, maybe it is the pace, or the people, but I have such great peace and the children are so filled with joy in this place. Not a day goes by when hubby doesn't look at something outside and say, "Look at the mountains this morning." or "Look at the deer." Often I get, "Honey, come see the way the fog is rolling in over the mountains this morning."

So, even though sitting here, the serenity fills every bone in my body like an optimist whose glass is half full, I know I must take the hike back to the renovated barn we call home, leaving this peacefulness for writing deadlines, job searches for hubby, dinner preparation, and real life. I must face the fact that as I sit here, the real world goes on, the economy is failing, elections continue and a good number of Americans continue to be fooled by evil and turn the good candidates into villains. I can't help but think if everyone could just take an hour to sit here among these open fields, fiery trees, and colorful mountains...if they could sit here listening to the cows, bulls, birds and crickets allowing themselves to wallow in the peacefulness of it all, praising our Lord for creating this place, the world just might be ok after all.