Writer wanna be

I used to want to be a writer. I felt so insecure about this that I'm pretty sure it was one of the few secrets that I kept really well.  :)  As I child I read constantly; when I got in trouble my parents couldn't send me to my room because I loved to sit there and read!  One of my favorite memories of early childhood was in kindergarten when I "got" to stay after school and play in the library with the librarian all by my self until dark; I was such a nerd even then that I thought the entire day was fabulous!  (I found out recently that the reason I did that was because my mom was in the hospital having a miscarriage and my dad was at OCS; it's amazing what kids' minds remember and what they choose to forget.)

My mom might remember that I made a stab at writing once or twice.  When I was in 9th grade we moved from Ft. Bragg, NC, to Bartow, FL.  I wrote in my little notebook the entire drive down there, trying to write something that sounded even remotely interesting.  I think it was something like a memoir... imagine the memoir of a 15 year old!  I kept it for a while.

Lynn & I, 9 years after Baggett's class

Fast forward 4 years to Samford University... Lynn may remember that I wanted to try to writing again.  I'd known for a while that I wanted to teach high school history, but I was so into reading and writing that I decided to take an "Intro to English Major" class with Dr. Baggett.  I believe the only significant things I did that semester were a) go to class a couple of times without brushing my teeth (GROSS!);  b) drag Lynn to class with me-sometimes in her pjs- so she wouldn't fail (and could help me pass); c) took my one and only aderol(sp?) to try to stay up all night to study for the final.  The course (and the aderol) were a mistake, a fact I'm sure Lynn can attest to. 

My other stint at writing has been off and on for forever: my journal.  I don't pour out my heart onto its pages all the time, or even very often.  But when I'm into it, I do it almost daily.  A year ago, for example, I began writing out my prayers.  I had miscarried in March, and everywhere I looked was someone with a baby or someone who was pregnant.  When getting pregnant again became a struggle and my body seemed to not heal properly from the miscarriage, I started praying through the Psalms, calling on God to honor His promises to provide me with peace in the middle of my insanely busy and, what I felt was an insufficient life.  There are pages with entire chapters from Psalms written multiple times, as I claimed Him as my Sustainer and Healer and Provider, and did everything but call God out on giving me the dream of having a family while making me wait.  ("Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.")  Looking back on those months of writing, I see that the time was more about God teaching me to rely on Him completely and trusting Him with everything.  Now, as Brad and I step out in faith as parents, and as a single-income family, I see that, as usual, the Lord was working everything out, especially my heart, for His glory.  I'm like that Caedmon's Call song, where the singer says "those same old struggles are plaging me still."

So, decent writer or not, my prayer for the day and for my life is that I reflect the Lord's work in my life, however embarassing it may seem.  2 Corinthians 3:18 says "And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into His likeness, with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit."  Addison's new "trick" is mimicking my facial expressions... sometimes when I smile at her she smiles, and when I frown she frowns, and when I open my mouth she opens hers.  We, as children of God, should be doing the same thing.