I’ve always wanted to write a book. I had almost forgotten that when I was 10 or 11 years old I wrote a series of stories about a stuffed animal I owned. A good friend from those years recently caught up to me on Facebook and reminded me about that.

I wanted to write a book of funny drunk stories as a young adult out on my own. I’m so glad that never transpired.

As a fairly young Christian, I became aware of how the stories I shared about the miraculous ways God revealed Himself in my life really resonated with other believers. Long time believers. A couple of people even tell me I should write a book about it.

So, I started that book. Sort of. I wrote bits and pieces, here and there. I have notes that spanned the early years of my walk with the Lord.

As a wife, mother and stepmother desperately trying to blend a family and work outside the home, and a homeschool teacher, there was no time. I lamented the fact that I couldn’t seem to make time to write that book. It got shoved aside for the immediacy of everyday life.

But I kept it all. There was that beat up folder full of scraps and writings sitting on the shelf. It moved from shelf to shelf as the house evolved, but it was always there. I didn’t think about it much anymore, because I was content in the knowledge that I was doing what God called me to do – godly wife, representative for homeschool families, children’s librarian offering support to families in our rural community.

Then one day everything changed. Covid-19 hit. Communication problems with my boss and other full-time staff at work were compounded. I became very frustrated with my job. And my husband, who was frustrated for me, made the comment that I should just write a book, make a million dollars and retire so I could stay home with him.

Bam.

The words were out. I had, in fact, started working on a children’s picture book about a year ago based on our dog, Caesar. It seemed like when Rick made his statement, it clicked. I DID want to write books. If my husband is offering the suggestion, is God leading? Could this be the time that I transitioned from being a children’s librarian to an author?

Very shortly after that, the radio station I listen to was advertising the Northwestern Christian Writer’s Conference, normally held in Minnesota but done virtually this year due to the virus. The desire within me flared up. When I went online to look through the Conference materials, I discovered there were several Pre-Conference training sessions. As I looked through them, the one about writing a nonfiction book compelled me. I read through all that was expected to come out of the session, and suddenly it struck me that I wanted to write my story.

It all blossomed from there. On my to-do list a couple of months previously, I had written down “pray about writing an email to my siblings”.  The family is currently fractured, most notably after my father’s unexpected death. Statements were made by two of my siblings that made me realize they don’t know me very well. They don’t know my story. They haven’t heard all those incredible ways that God showed His love for me and the huge way He’s changed me.

More recently, Rick went to church with me and asked some questions on the drive home. I shared my testimony of how God delivered me from meth and realized I had shared that particular story with MANY people over the past 25 years. But Rick never knew. How is that even possible?

People need to hear the stories. They need to know what God has done.

So, I talked with Rick about the conference, and he said yes. It was worth the money it would cost to set things in motion.

Now the question is, how in the world do I carve out time to do writing??