Time To Write

For those of you who do not know, I am a published writer. I'm not sure how much that means, however, considering I haven't published anything in six years. Not since that first novel. I remember how excited I was. I could hardly think about anything else. And forget sleeping. That just wasn't happening. I wrote a lot back then. I was writing constantly, whether it was in my journals or on a blog or for a book. It was an addiction. An outlet.

And I miss it.

This all came about last week when my Mom came over and I told her about the editing I was doing on the side for someone in my church. She kind of gave me a funny look and said (with a little bit of annoyance), "I remember when YOU were the one doing the writing." I didn't quite know what to say. But that sentence stuck with me. And it's been haunting me ever since that day.

I could formulate all kinds of excuses. I could tell you that I've been busy for the past few years. But everyone is busy. I could tell you that I've had writer's block. Everyone who writes suffers from writer's block every now and then. What do they do? They WRITE. And that's something that I haven't been doing. I did manage to write one book a few years ago about my husband's life. I believe it to be a masterpiece. I've never seen anything like it before. And where does it sit? On a shelf, in my bedroom, unpolished. Why?

Because I got lazy.

Recent people that I've met in my life have inspired me to start again. I've decided that I have a gift from God. That gift may have gotten a little rusty. But I need to shine it up and get it working again. I've let my mind lay dormant for too long. It needs to be inspired and that inspiration needs to spill out onto paper. If it isn't, I'm afraid of what my spirit will become.

My identity is made up of many things. I am a Mom. I'm a wife. I'm a step-mom. I'm a fund-raising coordinator.

And I'm a writer.