here is where is what God gave me+
I am tired of dreaming. Knowing writing chose me and I seek to ignore it because of fear. It tortured me everyday not to be writing and sending out my gift to the world and I could not figure out why.
I knew when I wrote for myself it made me feel like there was an amazing groundswell of emotions around me. Really. It is like that first love we all have. Remember that moment. Yes!!! Remember it. That was the first moment that you felt such emotion that you thought you would die if you didn’t see each other or talk to each other every minute of the day. That is what writing feels like for me and that is the joy I get from writing. And this joy must be shared with the world.
I want to live it. I feel it in the morning when the sun greets me. I see it in the faces of people and in the texture of nature, and then the words flow through me. I can reach out and touch with my imagination anything and put it into words that sometimes move me to tears. But tonight, tonight, something far more magical than seeing a fairy with wings or a doves sitting outside my window in the middle of winter happened. There was this certainty which clearly made itself known to me. Yes, to the life that is mine for the taking. Yes to writing and no to suffering behind the veil of illness, or depression, or whatever rock gets in my way of me sharing it with the world.
How can I write such beautiful stories and not share them with the world?
This is not right. I have been suffering far too long. I let fear stop me from being touched by God’s voice. His voice comes to me and I can barely keep up with the words.
Be gone all of it now is what I say. And I am singing as I write, actually humming a lullaby I sang to my children when they were born when I took each one of them and bathed them in water. To see there blue eyes wide open, and I know some will say this is not so, but I swear that in those moments it was as if they were happy and they heard my song and it touched them. I knew it as sure as I know what I am saying in this letter.
Yes Michael, my God says.
You have waited lovingly for me to find my way, I say.
I know I can write a thousand pages of what was and another thousand pages of what might be, but I’ll never know if I don’t try.
Yes courage has found me now. The suffering over and over again has gone.
Oh I have been blessed and I always have known this, but I sought the safety of my little miserable existence because I was afraid.
I can’t imagine doing anything else but write. There I said it. Wrote it for God’s sake.
Like a hundred splendid moons thousands have seen as I have, and I saw something in the moon’s face just for me, while everyone else went about their lives. That is why I write and that is why I am going to begin. Yes I have written 11 books but you know what, they were practice. I never really began because I never really believed it mattered to anyone but me. If you want to really know what I think I believe it was my angels of my childhood who sent me the stories to write over and over to get it through my thick frozen skull that I could write and that I must write. I know this tonight.
This is the moment I have been waiting for all my life and its so ironic because that moment found me when I began my life. How ironic it took so long to realize it.
The art of writing finds you and that is what I know for sure and to deny this and to be afraid of this is absolutely ridiculous, but oh, it was very real to me.
Yes my friends I have opened the doors to my writing table for the first time without fear, and I have come home. My hands have put pen to paper to tell you about this joyous occasion. The next time they will begin a story and another and another until my last breath.
The birth of a writer begins now!!!!
With love and kindness and thanks,