Day 55: Growing Pains

I have been stewing and praying over a story for close to a year now. It a story that hits super close to home for me and for my family. I have also met dozens (no kidding, dozens) of people in the last year who also resonate with the subject.

I have been a closet writer since i was 10 or 11 I think. I remember the first short story i wrote.  I got the idea from one of Casey Kasems radio shows. I think he used to have people write in with stories requesting a song for him to play.  To this day, when i hear that song, i remember that story.  The only thing is, as i type this, I can't remember the song.

I am not sure why I never let people see my stuff or even that I enjoy writing. I think there was just a lot of pressure to be good once you said you were a writer of some sort.

But with my new career change came the desire to expose that side of me.  The dream to one day have people read my stuff became bigger then the desire to hide it.  I would love to one day simply write for a living.  I know that's a long shot but its something i dream about at night... and during the day.

I have ideas come to me all the time. Sometimes 2 or 3 at a time.  If i am lucky, i can write them down and pick them up later.  Otherwise, i typically forget.  The few times i actually went with an idea, i found myself burning out part way through, never knowing where i wanted to ultimately go with the character or the story. Sometimes life simply got in the way.

This time was different.  The idea came to me in spurts.  It was birthed out of what i was witnessing in my life and the lives of people around me.  I knew there was a story there, i just didn't know whose it was.  So i sat on it. Its a sensitive subject to everyone i know who deals with it on any level. It brings with it pain, destruction, fear, stigma, and so many other things.  If i was going to tell the story, i had to do it well and i knew with my already huge fear of exposing my writing, that was going to be a tough one. It was going to have to be well thought out, well prayed for and well executed. I wasn't sure i was the person to do it. Still not sure.

For the last 2 months i have been doing preliminary research, in the form of surveys. I wasn't yielding as much from them as I'd like so went to the Internet.  The blogging world is so vast and so exposing, I just knew someone had to have stuff out there.  So i went looking and came up with true gems of information.

The amount of people who make themselves available to this area was staggering. The depth of their pain, their vulnerability was amazing.  After reading about 10 blogs, I felt drained, soul sucked and ready for a break.  I feel even less prepared to write this story but I know there is one there to tell.

As I opened up my word document to write the story, a pit of anxiety and fear welled up. "Can i really write this?"  "Who are you? And why would people want to hear from you?"  "Where do you even begin?"

So this is where I am.  Clinging to this story for dear life.  I know its something i am meant to do.  I am just not sure where the voice will come from.  I am trusting and praying that the Lord will guide me through.  If not, then this story isn't for me to tell.