investing my life

Saturday was a big day in our house. One of the biggest since I had knee surgery in January. It left me excited for the future and utterly exhausted.

It started because I was bored. Beyond bored really. There's only so much Private Practice that a girl can watch until 10+ episodes a day gets to be too much. There's only so many different positions I can sit in over the course of a day.

We had plans that night to go out for dinner with an older couple from our church, but until then there were multiple hours to get through.

For some time, my husband and I have discussed the need for a new laptop or computer of some sort. Our plan originally was to purchase a PC a few months back, but then I hurt my knee and one of our dogs had to have surgery. We kept putting the purchase off and trying to make it with just my 7-year-old MacBook.

That all changed on Saturday. We simply couldn't do it any longer. Between overheating, the mousepad not working properly and a lot of first world frustrations, we knew it was time. Time to move forward. Time to invest in our future endeavors.

After some shopping around, and a lot of talking it over, we headed to the mall - me on my crutches and my husband excited that we got to park in disabled parking - and made one of the larger purchases of our married life.

I know it's an object. And that nothing is tied to it. I could have edited and written on my old MacBook. But something about having a new shiny MacBook Pro has inspired me. Rather than losing all understanding of how quickly the day passes while watching television, I've spent my time on the computer lost in the world of manuscripts and blogging.

During college, I wrote a lot. Most of it was for fun, but much of it was also for classes. I took courses in communication that demanded papers. My major was professional writing which meant I had to complete an entire novel in the course of a semester. While taking English classes, I wrote short story after short story. I also submitted pieces to an online publication.

I was committed to my degree then. I was invested in writing. And I always thought it would be that way.

But a funny thing happens when you graduate from college. At least a funny thing happened to me. The dreams I once had, while still very real, took a back seat to the life I saw in front of me. Rather than write stories, I wrote court reports. Rather than spend time working on submissions, I dedicated time to treatment plans. I still talked about writing as my dream job, but I didn't do anything to turn that dream into a reality.

It only got worse as the years passed. While I always felt more myself when writing, I simply decided I no longer had the time to do it. I chose to spend my time on other tasks... Tasks I deemed more important.

The time I've had off work has changed my thoughts. I've been drawn back into the world of writing and editing and creativity. I've realized how much a part of me the written word is and just how empty I have been without it.

So this purchase of a new Macbook Pro solidifies my commitment to writing and to myself. Once I'm back at work, I won't have the time to write as I do now. So until I return to work, I'm going to dedicate my days to writing and blogging and creativity.

We discussed our purchase over dinner. We also discussed my writing. I have a desire to write stories that mean something to people. I want my words to impact someone's life in such a way that they are left forever altered. I want my work and my art to point back to a Creator who is so much more than I ever will be.

Talking with our friends, I was hit by God's grace. They shared stories about their daughter who is a professor in theatre and how she has a desire to see more Christians on stage. How she has a desire to help Christians escape doing just Christian theatre. It hit me then how much I have a desire to write but not to write Christian fiction.

I want to write in a way that reaches the mainstream. I want the stories to be relatable and entertaining. But at the end of the way, I want the stories to remind people that they are not the end all be all. I want my stories to elicit a wonder in people that makes them think about things more important than worldly possessions and comparisons to others.

So that's what I've been doing. Working on one incomplete manuscript and editing another manuscript to send off to a beta reader.

Without this knee surgery, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't have this time to dedicate to writer if not for an extensive surgery. Had I been able to go back to work after a week, as first (and stupidly) planned, I would still be living a life without actual words. There would be talk of writing but not actual writing.

We prayed about it on Saturday night. Me, my husband, and our friends. And in that moment, I felt it. This reminder that I've been given a dream of being a writer for a reason. This reminder that God is working to provide a way for me to just write.

These reminders continued throughout the weekend. Not just reminders about writing. But reminders of God's timing. His timing with my knee surgery, with our moving to a different church, with purchasing our new house, and with a few other things.

And I also remembered how important it is for me to be engaged. If I am not engaged in my life or my walk, then I can't grow. I won't see Him working. I'll miss all the beautiful things He does. I'll miss the future He is calling me to and instead settle for whatever I see in front of me at that time. I'll miss the provisions He is giving me.

There have been so many provisions during this time. Do I miss being mobile and busy? In a lot of ways, yes. Do I miss being independent? Yes very much so. Do I miss spin class and the elliptical? Yes. But when I had all those things, I also missed writing. I just didn't realize it until I had it back in my life.

The MacBook Pro is an object. But it is also an investment. Just like a gym membership is an investment and running shoes are an investment. And it's not the last investment I will make either. It's the first of many. Because from now on, I will be investing in myself and my life.

Linking up with Mercy Ink Blog for Heart and Home!

done looking for the critics (week 8)

I've loved reading for as long as I can remember. As a child, I had my parents read me The Berenstain Bear's Go To School nightly. Around the age of 5, I excitedly told them that I knew how to read and proceeded to "read" every single page. In reality, I recited the story from memory and also knew when to turn the pages, but in my child's mind, I was a genius.

My Nana was a reading specialist, before I was born, in Detroit, and so stories were also important to her. She had my dad read to me, while I was in my mother's womb, and accounts my love of the written word to this. I would have to agree with her as it's apparent that I was born both a writer and a reader.

In college, I (eventually) majored in professional writing. Through the courses in the school of journalism, as well as the English courses I took while a creative writing major, I read a lot. Some were books I enjoyed and wanted to read. Others were not. This onslaught of reading made it quite difficult to read just for pleasure, so I didn't - unless I was on vacation.

The same could be said for writing. I did do some writing for pleasure but most of it was for class and for a grade. I learned so much during my five years of college - not picking a major made it difficult to graduate in four and I probably would have stayed longer if I could have - but I also lost my love for the written word.

It's taken me nearly four years to rediscover it. Four years of really only diving into a book while on vacation. Four years of rewriting and editing the same novel. Four years of writing short stories only when someone gave me a prompt because it was too difficult for me to think of an idea. Four years of simultaneously forgetting everything I learned, remembering everything I learned, and reminding myself that it is okay to need help with writing.

The irony is not lost on me that it took me an entire bachelor's degree to recover from the bachelor's degree I hold. At least this time, no one had to pay for the courses - though there's plenty of bills to pay for real life.

I finished a book last night. The third in The Mortal Instruments series. I couldn't sleep, except for between 11pm and 1am and then again 4am and 6:50am, so I worked on a few things around the house and read. I started the books only a few weeks ago, right after finishing The Hunger Games, and I can't wait to dive into another book.

With every book I read, I feel like I discover something about myself. Sometimes its a new author I love. Other times its content that shows up on the blog. Not every discovery is big or earth shattering, but it's there.

This time I realized how badly I want to be an author. I've mentioned it before on the blog - more in passing than as an actual statement. And then I have gone about my life without diving into life as an author. Because doing that is scary. But I know it's who I am and that the longer I spend not writing the more I will feel adrift.

And I have been adrift the past few weeks. Not exercising. Struggling with what to eat and how to eat. Losing my footing on this journey towards health. It all goes back to defining who I am at the core, and who I am at the core is a writer - whether numerous people read my blog or no one read its; whether I become a best selling author or I'm never published.

The first book I ever wrote was a children's book. It was for an assignment in school. I wrote about a skunk who got trapped in a high school - the high school I ended up attending and graduating from. I illustrated the entire book as well and enjoyed telling of all the skunk's adventures. My mom still has the book.

The second book I really wrote was for class. I had (and still have) half-finished manuscripts and other stories I wrote for fun, but my senior year of college, I completed an entire novel about a girl who goes to China and what happens when she comes back.

Now I'm working on my third book. It's slow, but it's getting there. And maybe, just maybe, third time will be the charm.

I think rediscovering myself as a writer is integral for every aspect of my life - especially the journey of losing (and then maintaining the loss of) 100 pounds. Because if I don't have as firm a grasp as possible on who I am, I doubt the weight loss will be something that sticks.

So I'm on my way. Working diligently on the novel. Thinking about it all the time. Anticipating the next time I can write. Fitting it into my daily schedule, even if for just a few minutes. Just like I will once again do with exercise.

(title from "f*ckin' perfect" by pink)

Note: this post was sponsored in part by Blue Matter Marketing. All opinions and thoughts are my own. For online writing tutoring, please visit www.thewritingfaculty.com - a site that provides assistance and tutoring for writers of all ages and levels.