My Eureka moment hasn’t really been “A moment”. It hasn't appeared in a flash of light, a flick of a switch or a bolt of reality. It has trickled in, and has come in three parts. 1.Eur 2.ek 3.a.
"Eur"…as in "yur a writer"
Part one happened when I was about seven years old.
I wedged my pale-blue-colored, Holly Hobby sticker-covered dresser into my bedroom doorway. I plunked a pile of scrap loose leaf and a jar of pencils on top. Mom’s manual typewriter weighed about as much as I did, but I managed to hoist it up on that writing surface. I then positioned a stack of side tables behind that chest of drawers and crawled up them. I popped open the typewriter cover, slid a pencil behind my ear, then declared my journalist’s office “open for business.”
That was when God told me “yur a writer.” It wasn’t for another 30 years that I would take Him seriously though. And why would I? Sure…I could type a line of “sdkfjlskjflkjldskjf” so fast that it would make those little metal arms jam together. But my English teachers certainly never took me serious. And this brings us to Part two.
As for my English teachers, it was harder for them to make me write an essay than it was to get the gum off the bottom of the desks. I didn’t like structure. I didn’t like the rules of grammar and punctuation. And I certainly didn’t like writing what I was told to write. I protested against such controlled writing all the way to a solid “C”. A day came though—there was that list on the chalkboard under the heading “choose one of these people to write about.” As if it were flashing in neon lights, the name “Mozart” caught my immediate attention. As luck would have it, I was fascinated by this musical genius. I could hardly wait to sprint down to the library and take out every book I could find. I ate the history of Mozart for breakfast and poured out his story onto my scratch pad. With the confidence of a champion I handed in my completed work.
I could hardly wait to get my grade back. I was more eager than a kid in the lineup to Splash Mountain. The day finally came. In traditional teacher fashion, she placed our assignments face down on each of our desks. I flipped those pages over to reveal…”Eeeeeek!” Instead of my anticipated A+++, the words written in red pen across my page said, “plagiarism is not acceptable.” I was a bit confused. I didn’t know what plagiarism was. I probably wasn’t paying attention in that class. Once I had it explained, I trucked back to the library, took all those books out once again, plopped them on my teacher’s desk, and told her as nicely as I possibly could that if she found a single sentence that I took out of any of those books I would accept an “F”. I ended up with my only A in that class!
Interesting enough, that false accusation of fraudulent activity didn’t discourage me from writing. It was simply a very loud “not yet.”
“A”…said like this “Ahhhhhh”
“Not yet” alright! And it wouldn’t be “yet” for another twenty years. Life took me on a detour through parenting, a career in science, some hobbies, many interesting experiences, lots of ups and downs, some self-discovery, and eventually into a relationship with Christ.
And then. My path collided with desperation to understand my purpose. That was when the Lord began to rearrange my life and awaken my calling to write. Opportunities began to emerge and I was clocked on the side of the head with a resounding “Ahhhhhh…now it’s time!”
As it turns out, if it wasn’t for all the "Eeeeeek's" between the “Yur” and the “a” I wouldn’t have anything to write about. The Lord knows our path before He even places us on it. The time comes when we will see the little crumbs of evidence of our purpose peppered along our trail. We just need to do our best to be patient and wait for His timing to bring our Eur-ek-a moment together.
For more of Melanie's writing visit www.hungryforpurpose.com/blog