This is the strangest thing, and so I figured the best thing is just to come right out and say it because, clearly things around here are different and it would be foolish for me to keep on going along as if nothing has changed when we all know everyone sees right through a smokescreen.
Last week, I signed a contract with Baker Books. I promised them I’d write a whole bunch of words, and they promised some stuff, too. It’s very surreal to me, and not something I completely understand, yet. Except that I know it’s terrifying. And also exhilarating.
And, I know I have no idea what I’m doing.
In fact, it was H who finally brought the contract to me while I was sitting on the front porch, occupying myself with other things. He waited until I’d signed the contract, and then he took it to the post office and mailed it for me. At the end of the day, when he came home from running errands, he handed me a tracking slip from the post office and said, “This is for you to keep track of the contract. To make sure it gets there.”
It got there. I still have that tracking slip on my dresser. I’ll probably keep it for a while.
So, naturally, I have writer’s block. Oh, not when it comes to writing Facebook status updates, or witty captions on Instagram. Nope. I don’t have a problem there. It’s the other writing that’s all gone. Just like that. I could probably write a recipe, or something like this post, which doesn’t have anything at all to with what I’m supposed to be writing.
I imagine this is normal. I don’t know. This is all new to me. But I wanted to let you know. Because chances are, you’ll notice some inconsistencies here in this space over the next few months, while I try to get a handle on all of these things. Or, better yet, to not get a handle on all these things. You know. To try to let go and not control this latest adventure in which God seems to have me enrolled.
Really, this is one of those classic cries for help. That’s the honest truth. I mean, if, over the next few months, you come by here, expecting to read something new, and all you see is a photo and a bible verse from last Sunday, I guess I’m suggesting you might possibly consider it a sign that I probably could benefit from some positive energy, or good thoughts, or even a prayer or twelve or three hundred twenty-one.
I’m quite confident God considers this akin to a date night or something, where, in the end, he and I will be even more intimately connected to one another. For my part, I consider it more like one of those much-reviled truth walks from middle school youth group, where I’d be blindfolded and led through the woods—branches slapping me in the face, my feet slipping out from under me on the wet leaves, my toes and shins crashing into boulders and rocks in the path.
I’m trusting I’ll be better for it when it’s all said and done. I’m praying my poor husband can stand to live with me along the way (I’m already proving to be quite a piece of work—at least, if I were H, that’s what I’d be thinking about me, right about now). But mostly, I’m counting on God to have this figured out, and to keep me from getting caught up in the wrong things.
I’m trusting he knows me so very well, and that he hasn’t invited me on an adventure intended for someone else. I mean, from where I sit, it feels as if it’s absolutely someone else’s assignment, and that I received the wrong memo. But, doors keep opening, and I’ve learned to keep going through the ones that open. And, even if it all ends in disaster, and it turns out I did get it wrong after all, I’m trusting God to redeem even that and to keep checking my heart for me; to keep holding up a mirror to my soul and reminding me what he sees when he looks at me.
For Baker Books’ sake, and for Bill Jensen, my agent, I am trusting God to come through. They have been in my corner, enthusiastic and unwavering, seeing something in me I can’t see for myself. They are the exact human partners I need in this thing.
And, I need you. I really do.
OK. So that’s what’s going on over here. I wanted you to know, because none of this would be happening if it hadn’t been for you. You read stuff here, and you share it, and you engage with the words I write, and that means more than you will ever know. I’ll keep trying to tell you how much you mean to me, but I’ll fall so far short. I hope you can hear my heart.
My terrified, trembling, clueless, and grateful heart.
And, I hope I find all the words God has chosen especially and specifically for you.