I just re-read a comment I received today,for about the tenth time.Excuse me, there seems to be something in my eye. (ahem) This is the sort of comment that a writer only dreams of getting, and usually, never sees.First she says add me to the list of "strangers"...let me stop right there, because what this dear lady wrote to me, does not come under the category of "stranger." Her comments and her straight-forward critique of my work was humbling and the answer to a prayer. There is no way she could possibly have known how important her words would be to me today.No one knew, but God. Someone very wise and famous once said that writing is 1% inspiration, and 99% perspiration. My inspiration comes from many sources, but first and foremost, it comes from God.And, as He has told me time after time, HE will use whom HE will use.Today, He also used Phoenix, to answer my prayer, through her. I can never consider her a stranger from now on.I consider her a friend.I was so deeply touched when I read what she had to say, that had we been speaking face to face, I would have been blushing (and me without my fan!) like a southern belle, and digging my toe in the sand at the same time, like a bashful boy,and completely incapable of uttering a word! Of course, eventually I would have gotten over it enough to mumble my thanks, and an hour, (or a week) later I might have come up with the perfect way of responding in an elegant manner, but then the moment would have been lost.But that is part and parcel of being a writer. Like many, I don't think on my feet.I have to shove it to the back burner,and let thoughts stew for a while, until the appropriate response bubbles to the surface. Does that surprise you? It shouldn't. Words do not fall glibly onto the paper from my brain, or onto the keyboard either. Sometimes a single post may take me a long time to compose, simply because I am picky, and take extraordinary care that I am being precise and exact, and even then, upon occasion, I am misunderstood. But I digress.So, I took the print-out of this comment,and considered framing it, but I decided against it, because that would be prideful.So I then composed a reply to her in an email, relating my gratitude for her comments, and included a great deal of what I have now written in this post.When I was all finished, and it looked right to me, the last step was spell-checker...and it came up, no changes, and I was so pleased, and then, I LOST IT! It was perfect! It was HUGE! And I LOST IT! I could have cried in frustration! So, my dears, I decided to tell you in this blog that along with all the rest, your emails and comments have given me a scathingly brilliant idea! I am inspired to relate to you a dream...or a vision, I had just after I fell at work, and broke my back. I had been praying to the Lord,tell me what to do now. How am I going to get along now? I have always been a voracious reader, and had threatened to write a book about some of my experiences tending bar, but once I left that "life-style", that went on hold. Now, with no job, and nothing else to do, I wasn't capable of holding down a full, or even a part time job.But I had fallen heir to a typewriter. I took to writing out stories about that Era of my life. Still, I was seeking the Lord, and the pain in my back caused me to be wakeful at night. I would write until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, and then fall into bed exhausted, and pray and cry myself to sleep.This went on for weeks, through one of the coldest winters ever, until finally, one night, I had fallen into bed, and I "woke up" in THE THRONE ROOM. "HE" was seated on the throne. I knew who HE was.Many times I had pictured myself sneaking into that room, wearing a pink tu-tu, with wings on my back.He would hold out his arms to me,and I would run to him,and climb into his lap,and he would hug me,and tell me that he loved me. This time, I only stood there, in that glorious room in the clouds, in an attitude of worship, saying,"Father God. When I was small, you told me you had a purpose for my life.I believe you, but you never told me what it was.Will you tell me now?" HE said,"What is that you have in your hand?" I looked. It was the typewriter.The old, manual ROYAL typewriter.I didn't get it, or, I didn't want to get it." But, what is my purpose?" I asked, hoping He would say more. I woke up with those words ringing in my ears..."WHAT IS THAT YOU HAVE IN YOUR HAND?" A few weeks later, the old Royal was replaced, I was given a big grey Underwood scriptor, which I used to write two books on, and ever since, writing has been my passion, my calling,and praise the Lord, he has brought into my life a succession of computers, and now, a brand new one, and here I am!
OUI?
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