In the beginning....
I can honestly say that it wasn't a teacher, friend, or neighbour who inspired me to write. Not a single name comes to mind; at least not from back then. I certainly enjoyed English class during high school but there wasn't one teacher who instilled in me the desire to write.
It was without a doubt, the difficult events that transpired in those early years. It all boiled down to the complexity of my life. I was a believer but I wasn't walking with God. He wasn't at the centre of my world. For this reason, it was easy to blame him for anything and everything that hurt. "God must be punishing me." I said. It was the only thing that made any sense at the time.
I felt as though the trials in my life always came to stay. They took up residence and wouldn't leave. At times the mountain looked impossibly large and I longed to make things better. Fix them! But deep down, I didn't know how.
My first journal....
For some reason, I bought a journal. All those years ago an empty book suddenly became host to the very thoughts that were swimming inside my head. Every emotion, every discomfort, every wave of sorrow pounding in my chest formed a sea of words between the pages. I released little pieces of myself. I built a foundation. A refuge. A place of my own.
I pressed the pen to the page and watched as it marred the paper like a sharp nail. Still, every now and then, hope managed to find its way in. Thin lines of blue ink seemed to whisper, "You will get through this."
Eventually, joy and pain co-existed. I gave myself permission for them to straddle the same page. Something was stirring in me. A new outlook! Something that only God could have orchestrated.
I had no idea that writing in a journal would lead me to desire something more; something outside of that familiar place -- that comfortable place where I feel free to write my way over the mountains, one word at a time or to simply bask in the beauty of my life as it dances across the pages.
In all my years of writing though, I never imagined I would stray outside my comfort zone, outside my journals to a place where others might read my thoughts. But I have! After attending my first writing class in 2010, I found myself hooked.
I don't only write for myself, but for others too. I'm so glad God gave me the desire to write.
**God often speaks to us in a "still small voice" a gentle whisper to guide and direct us.