It’s been more than ten years.
This effort to obey, to write, to put in words a story from my heart.
It’s been a reoccurring question.
“When are you going to finish your book?”
Most of the time, the voice was my husband’s.
I even printed it off a few times.
Yet, it never felt right.
Something seemed forced.
Lifeless words, just black lines on white paper.
I’d put it away.
I’d stopped trying.
Sis had found a copy on one of her jump drives and enthusiastically given it to me.
“Look what I found! Now you can finish it.”
I thanked her.
And I prayed.
“Lord, it’s been years. I don’t feel able to get this book into shape. I’m afraid to even try again.”
Why did you write it?
“You told me to.”
Who were you writing for?
“Our children, but especially our daughters.”
With the fresh vision and focus, I plugged in the jump drive and settled down to work.
Because writing is work.
I rewrote the first chapter.
I’m going to work on it again.
When I feel chapter one is ready, I’m going to make copies.
Then, I’m going to give them away and ask for comments, corrections, and critiques.
In this way, I am trusting the Lord to fulfill the vision.
Because my very own family, who I’m writing this for, will be a part of the creation.
I’ll be honest.
But I trust God.
He will guide and direct.
He always has.
May He be glorified through this effort, no matter how the book turns out.