I’ve enjoyed writing stories since my elementary school days. It wasn’t until my first year of university that I realized it was possible for me to be published. My English professor pulled me aside after reading a piece I wrote and told me I should seek publication. At that time, I had no idea how to go about it, but that simple word of encouragement spurred me to pursue a writing life.
I enjoy an active life. I don’t do well if I’m forced to sit for hours at a desk. I think that was part of my problem as a university student—I enjoyed doing things with my hands more than sitting in a lecture.
And yet, I have an unction to write. Mostly, I journal. Daily, I journal my devotional time (some of which makes its way into my newsletters). But I have also found I like to write stories. Seemed a reasonable pursuit, since my imagination (especially as a child) tends to lead me down all sorts of roads at all sorts of times—so much so that, I must confess, I have to be very careful before saying something to be sure that I’ve sorted out what is fact and what is just my imagination running wild. I hate to admit it, but it is true.
Interestingly, over a decade ago, I truly thought the only safe thing for me to write was story. I loved writing novels. Wrote several. Published one.
Now, I find myself wanting to share what I’m learning. In truth, I’m not really wanting people to comment on what I write. Primarily because I believe what I believe and get very stressed when someone disagrees with me. Sad statement. Some people are given to enjoy debating and really aren’t offended when someone disagrees with them. And I’d like to think I’m one of those people. In fact, I have often tried to put that character on. But I just haven’t mastered it. My pride tends to just overflow like a big blob oozing out of its container. And quite frankly, I don’t like the smell or appearance of it, so I tuck it away and hide behind…well, I’m not really sure what I hide behind, I just know I hid behind something.
I guess you can take it or leave it. And for all my fear of people’s comments, I’m always receptive to people’s encouragement. And ya, I do appreciate it when people kindly speak the truth to me. I just have to poke at that nasty blob to get it back in its container.
