Last night I tore apart my office – what I call the Bobcave. I took down years of artwork made for me by kids who have gone through my small group at church. I have a sense it is time to move on…to begin again.
I feel the call of my writing.
I have left it as a hobby for the past five years. Not anymore. It has a claim on me.
There are so many stories, so many characters, who want to live.
Just like the main character in my story The Gutenberg, I believe there is a magic in need of being unleashed – a truth about us all that defies rationality and dissection.
It is time to begin again.
In the past five years a lot has happened: I have stopped living the false life I lived before. I found love. I had it ripped from me. I felt my heart die. I came to know resurrection. And now love comes upon me again.
And this calling is back.
This wind that drives me on howls more fiercely than ever. And in the midst of it…I stretch out my arms…every hair on my body singing in the wind…and I know I am ready.
Time to pick up what I have put down. Time to resume what was – but this time in a way and with a fierceness I could never have imagined.
I am ready to begin again.