Monday, October 8, 2012

A Moment in the Life

Monday, October 8, 4:54 pm Eastern Daylight Time. Autumn has surely arrived in the land, and I huddle on the floor of the living room with a little space heater blowing its feeble warmth into the air. A clock is ticking off to my right. Marking away the seconds like the beating of a heart. Tick...tick...tick...

I sit with my laptop perched upon my legs, thinking. What shall I do? How can I share my stories with the world? I complete my daily ritual of checking Amazon sales ranks, website page views, and Goodreads ratings. Status: unchanged. I have stories. How can I share them? The room is getting warmer, finally. The novels of the Great Ones stare down at me from their shelves. Dekker, Koontz, Dante, Bible, and too many others to count. The picture of my late uncle watches me, too. "Don't give up," he says. "I'm so proud of you and I know you can do it." He never saw my stories. They have only come to me in recent years.

A crucifix gazes down at me from beside my uncle. Christ in death, head bowed to one side as if he is only sleeping. I want to be with him. I want to follow him in every word and deed, but it is so hard, so hard. To his right is a box of beautiful cards they all sent me in the mail during the Bad Time. It is an irony, how the pain of that day could inspire me to write so beautifully. Pain is a teacher; a cruel one; yet without it we are weak. Without it we have no appreciation of happiness and joy.

I sit here, back leaning against the couch, and think about how different life would have been. I feel sad, even though years have come and gone. This day has no need for tears, though they hover furtively at the edge of my vision threatening to spill forth. I won't let them. Not today. There is too much to be thankful for; my life and health among them.

Monday, October 8, 5:11 pm Eastern Daylight Time. I think I will turn off one of the space heaters. And I will pray.

1 comment:

  1. This is a kind of angst with which I can readily identify :/ This line is my favorite: "The novels of the Great Ones stare down at me from their shelves. Dekker, Koontz, Dante, Bible, and too many others to count."

    Sad to hear your uncle never got to read your stories. Great that he encouraged you. As do I - the LORD will use you mightily. I am so encouraged that "His power is perfected in weakness, therefore most gladly will I boast in my weaknesses" (2 Cor. 12:9) - how often I look at my flimsy, mal-constructed sentences trying to forge a picture and falling short, and feel so inadequate. Then, I'm reminded if He has inspired it, He can anoint it with power that transcends my human abilities. He will also open doors to the readers that need to hear the messages.