A Book?

Several years ago my mom recommended that I write a book. I thought she was crazy. But as I journal more and blog more...I have found a love for writing. I write to share my convictions. I write to share the things I learn. To share the things I love and desire has become a joy. If I learn all these things and experience all the wonders of living life as a social worker, disciple, friend, daughter, sister and coworker but do not share them, I have given nothing. I long to share my love and the love of my journey.
So a book. I knew it couldn't be fiction. Writing fiction is like trying to make up a story for a child who wants a spontaneous bedtime store...I can't do it. They are all the same. The girl marries a prince, they all live happily ever after, the mom and dad raise their child and protect them... I don't long for these stories.

So I thought about what it would mean to share my story, to share my journey in a book. Who would read it? Why would I do it? What would it look like? Where would it go or what difference would it make? Though I would love to sit down and share my story, I can't answer all of these questions. With out answering them I am not confident I can begin such a task. I know that if it was written it would be more about the things I have to share and teach than about me. It would be more about the principles that are at the core of my life and the love of my God than the what I have accomplished.

And as I ponder these questions I know two principles and ideas that have been central to who I am as a person came out in fortunes from lunch with some friends this week:

"Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die, life is like a broken-winged bird that cannot fly."

"If you want the rainbow, you have to tolerate the rain."