I think this will be a Thanksgiving I’ll remember for awhile. First came the news that my mom had diabetes. Then she and my step dad were in a car accident. Thankfully, they weren’t badly injured. Mom suffered some whiplash. Then came the storm. Winds howled at sixty kilometers an hour plus. At some points, wind speeds of 125 km/hr were recorded. This caused accidents, property damage and power outages. We were among the lucky ones to get our turkey roasted. I finished the sides on my barbecue. As I review, I realize this is about the story of my life for the last year.
I know the purpose of a writer’s conference is to encourage writing. I guess I knew going in, my heart wasn’t there. I enjoyed meeting the people whose names I see on the listserv and Facebook. It was nice to put real people to the computer generated images. But my enthusiasm waned during the workshops. Then I attended Melanie Fischer’s session. I know what I got out of it wasn’t on her agenda but it was on God’s. I needed a break from writing.
For months, I’ve pushed myself to the computer and struggled to get things written. When I reread these efforts, I can see the lack of cohesiveness in the words. When I brought up the subject of taking a break with fellow writers, I got the standard advice to get to the computer and it will happen. I was miserable.
In Melanie’s workshop, we were asked to figure out the “cubby hole” where God wants us. The heaviness lifted as I accepted God had a different place for me than behind the computer for a time.
I came home rejuvenated. The guilt of not sitting at my computer was gone and still is. Funny, I’ve resisted this for so long and now that I just let go, things are happening. A lady read my book and loved it. She’s not a believer. She then gave her friend the book. I haven’t had encouragement like that in ages.
I will write again. I can feel the Nanowrimo urge building. But I won’t fight the rest and will remain a stranger to my computer until the Holy Spirit shows me the time has come to let Him speak through my fingers once again.