One never knows when a spiritual journey begins.

It can start with a simple circumstance, a chance meeting, or a tumultuous crisis in life. Whatever happens, a gift is always the outcome, and many times wrapped in a surprise. That’s what happened to me. 

  I was having many wonderful adventures, just living life to the fullest, enjoying relationships with my husband, my son, the women I mentor, friends I love, and I would write about these things,  sometimes in my journal, sometimes posting them virtually, sometimes writing about them in poems. These writings weren’t always happy experiences, sometimes they were about loss, or yearnings, unfulfilled dreams, or nightmares that would re-occur. But they were real and  I wrote because, well, because I can; but sharing them brought others into my world, and sometimes helped them with their own similar struggles- or celebrations, and it made my joy a little more full. 

   Without warning my life took a turn.

      One day, when a friend said,

“You should join a writing group! I know of one I like!” 

Fear, always sitting around the corner, reached out a small tendril and grabbed me around my soul. “

     Oh no-oo!” I said. 

     I don’t want people criticizing me, shredding what I write into little pieces-and stomping on it, Fear screamed. 

“It’s not like that.” my friend said. 

 A gentle look was in her eyes . “It’s constructive, and we use guidelines to help us give proper feedback. Please. You should come! “I relented feeling a little foolish for overacting.

Fear shrunk back to its dark corner.

Ok. Maybe.

      Maybe became tomorrow, and soon I found myself sitting at Barnes and Noble,  a local favorite bookstore. They had a coffee shop inside ( nice perk for those who like to sit with a good book and read) and there were about 8 people, each writing in various genres. We  had a few pages we read aloud, and then the group took turns commenting on what was offered. It was friendly, refreshing, positive, and genuine.

I was not disappointed, but pleased with this new adventure, and I kept coming back.

     The comments, written on my pages in different colors of ink, signed by the various writers, were actually quite helpful. I began to learn a lot through this, and before long, it was something I began to look forward to. 

   What did I bring to the table? Well, strangely enough, in order to participate, I had to write something! 

So I began a memoir.

     I had tried many times to write a book, but it just never came together. I couldn’t find a focus. I would start, but felt uninspired, until now. 

                 God’s timing was perfect.

     Suddenly, I had plenty to write! Chapter after chapter poured from my pen, and month after month,I read small pieces and was encouraged by the other writers. I didn’t really know that I was a good writer. I didn’t actually know I was a writer. It was nice to be so  encouraged and mentored. 

       I was also exposed to so many unique authors- some published already,  and working on new pieces ( I sat in awe of a real author! ) and some working on something not yet published. During the course of our time together, one of the writers  got a contract and had a book release party! I was glad I had got to be part of her experience and had even given helpful input to her process. 

      I never really thought I would be someone who would publish a book. I was just,….writing. 

There were challenges. I remember the day I finished writing  my book. HOORAY! It was pure  elation! Followed by Oh no! I have to edit it now!  I had no clue how to do this. So my memoir sat on the shelf,  for ages. Overwhelmed at the thought of rewriting anything, I was paralyzed.The day came when I thought, are you going to just let all that good effort go to waste? Should you just throw it in the trash? Horrified at that thought, I had to come up with a new plan. So,  I joined another writing group, and through it, met a gal who asked me to help edit her work. That was easier than editing mine, right?  She offered to edit my memoir, and in the process, taught me the secrets of revising, proofreading and correcting. It was fun! How amazing to shift from hating to edit to actually  looking forward to it.

     What else happened? So much more! I could write a book (heh heh) on everything that occurred in my life, from the one simple decision to pick up the pen ( or tap on my computer keys, one of which is forever lost)  and then to move forward into unknown territory of what was to come.

     Written across my heart are memories so unique and so meaningful, each one is like a special love note from God. God, who is the author of my life, sits outside of my timeline, and He knew the beginning and  the end of this story,  before I did.

     I remember when I used to tell new friends, who sat in certain fear of the future, 

“ God has a plan for your life. There are no accidents. Trust the process.”

     Today, I stand in a place of wonder, at how this journey began, and what God’s purpose in it was, and will be in the future. It’s way more than the words on the page. Perhaps God IS the page, and I am but one line across it. 

             His grace rewrote the story of my life. 

   I look forward to seeing what else unfolds, what new surprises appear, and what opportunities present themselves. I have no expectations, I just expect God will be in the middle of it! As He always has been.