Come home to stories of faith, love and forgiveness.
There never seemed to be a starting point to my life as a writer. It was just always there, like my eyebrows or toenails, or anything else attached to me. In the third grade I won a fifty cent piece for a poem and that made me a professional writer. Done deal. My life was set. Over the years I’d have a little success with magazines and newspapers and think I was on my way. I wrote books that didn’t sell. I’d stop writing for awhile when too many rejections and the exhaustion of sprinting the corporate treadmill and raising three (amazing/wonderful/precious) children set in. But I couldn’t stand it. I’d start again, more determined than ever. To all potential or dreaming writers, I say please. Stop dreaming. Do it. Write. Just do it. Let discouragement be a catalyst for improvement. Never give up. Never, never. If it’s inside of you, it’s there because it’s a God-given gift. That gut-burning hole inside of you when you’re not writing… that’s words wanting to get out. Like our eyebrows and toenails, sometimes our writing has to be shaped and polished. I think I’ll write about that.
“Your calling is bigger than you. It’s about the people you are called to impact.”