As a child my nose was always in a book. I chose reading over watching television. My small arms could never carry away enough bound pages from the bookmobile. Teachers couldn’t keep enough reading material on the classroom shelves to satisfy my curiosity. And Granny constantly reprimanded me with the words, “You’re going to ruin your eyes.”
Decades later I am just as in love with reading as my ten year old self was. Of course responsibilities pull at me now and I must often put the books aside and wait longingly to discover their treasures.
So many books, so little time.
There’s something about words, the power they have in written and spoken form. There is beauty in type and script and black print on thick, white paper. There is an appeal in the smell of a room filled floor to ceiling with tomes of all sizes.
Yet the words of others just isn’t enough for me.
As a child, I sat on a forest green rusty swing and made up songs to the rhythm of the squeaking chains. As a lost and overwhelmed teenager, I poured out my emotions in poetry. As years passed and college came, I found my voice in the campus newspaper and in the Montage literary magazine.
Four years ago my writing turned to painting word pictures of the people and places God sent across my path during the World Race. For a brief time following, I was able to use words to tell stories from Haiti after the 2010 earthquake and to share how God was moving in the midst of such heartbreak and impossibilities.
It seems I’ve always been a writer. For years I dreamed of some day writing a book of my own, creating something others would want to sit down with while curled under blankets and holding coffee.
Honestly, the past couple of years I’ve felt a bit lost in writing. A bit voiceless. My journal lies mostly empty and my blog has become a place of duty. I’ve looked back at my World Race blog and wondered what happened to that writer. It’s like she vanished and I question if she can be found again.
Despite my doubts and fears, I know that I am a writer.
Maybe I just need to sit and start again. Maybe I just need the challenge and the accountability. So I’m joining this challenge by Jeff Goins: 15 Habits of Great Writers.
Maybe you want to join too?