I daydream of being a writer. The truth be known, I am no more than an anal retentive, obsessive compulsive scribbler of notes desperately trying to document my journey through the labyrinth of empty halls that make up the gray matter in my head.
Sometimes I wonder if it is wise to be recording and documenting each and every thought especially when I consider the possibility of this information falling into the hands of the prosecutor come judgment day. But on the other side of the coin…hopefully the converse is true. If I were to be put on trial and accused of being a Christian it might be used as evidence to convict me.
As for being a writer it is just a delusion…wishful thinking. It would appear pointless to call any of my English teachers to the witness stand...as they have already cast their vote by penning a plethora of D’s and F’s on my each and every report card.
Perhaps I scribble and scrabble in some futile effort to prove them wrong. For whatever the reason, I seem to have become…late in life…intrigued by the process and uninhibited by my grammatical shortcomings.
So thank you, Lord Jesus, for whatever gifts it is that you have given me.
Please help me to share these gifts and use them for Your glory.
Amen
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Read the story about Big Red's mother in the A.J. - We are writers. Some day, some where - we will be validated. From one want-to-be to another.
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