Growing Pains

 

 I wonder what interesting things went on the last two weeks. It’s been that long since I posted, as a two-day writer’s conference put me out for a week. I seem to need routine like fish need water. I depend on it but live on other things like oxygen: my mom, bed, quiet, and solitude. I learned when I lived in Harrisburg that I need my mom in person. I thrive on her hugs, and the quiet nighttime chats.

After a two-week break where I dug my way through a fog unable to work or eat much, and not getting anything done when I tried, I finally sat down to work on my book. I told my mom I didn’t know where to start after so long. I didn’t think I would be able to get anything done. My mom prayed for me, and then I sat down.

I had prayed about the book in the night and this morning, yet I could not bear the thought of sitting down to write. As someone asked me, “How do you write a book?” My answer is one paragraph, even one sentence at a time. I did not sit down to write the book, I sat down to find a little corner to write about. I started with the hardest point of my book, one I did not want to write and rather painful. I ached my way through a few paragraphs and finally stopped in awe of what God and my mother has done for me. With that out of the way for the moment, I found another area of the book and began to write.

I was amazed at how the words flowed, not effortlessly, but they came. I was putting my thoughts on paper, digital paper anyway. After a few hours, a thousand words appeared. I felt so light inside, and it was amazing. I thank God for this writing project to tell His story of my life so far.