Whenever my dad gets the chance to talk about his daughter the preacher, he talks about how I write. He doesn’t reference his own faith journey or how totally and completely shocked he was that two atheists raised a Christian. I tell that story more than he does. Maybe I should tell it less because what my dad really likes to talk about is how I write.
He can’t write. He wasn’t a good student. If you’ve met me in person, you know that I get this from him. I can’t take a compliment and I’ll sure as hell tell you what I suck at before I tell you how great you are. Because that’s what my dad always does. He says he can’t write and then he talks about how beautifully I write.
And then he gets tongue tied and insists that you have to see it to believe it. It’s cute but more than that, this little song-and-dance has been an inspiration. My dad started talking about my writing before I thought of myself as a writer. He gave me courage. He gave me strength so that now I am calling myself a writer.
In the new (im)possible things I hope to realize, this is at the top of the list. Sure. There’s that military ministry I’m flirting with and the hope that I might serve a church again, but even my fiancé will say that this is my sabbatical time to write.
I’m trying to seize this possibility — buoyed by the incredible support of my fiancé — and actually write.
In the upcoming issue of the Church Health Reader, I wrote about three amazing congregations that have claimed the veteran community as their focus. They’ve created healing circles and mentoring programs and all kinds of amazing things. It was such a delight to talk to these people and even more fun to share their stories.
I’ve also answered a call to write for a new blogging community within the United Church of Christ called the New Sacred. It launches in just a few days and it promises to be an engaging platform for discussing what matters most. Keep on refreshing that browser until all of that inspiring content appears.
There is a deep reverberation in my soul in getting this chance to soak in the power of words. As many times as my fiancé has heard me freak out that I’m at the climax of my career and I’m unemployed (what the hell), it is so humbling to answer this call. To actually embrace this possibility of being a writer and especially to know that my dad is so very proud of me.
Disclaimer: Not all of my writing involves such profanity, especially not the sermon kind of writing. Sorry it snuck in here.
2 thoughts on “Called to Write”
Yes! And, Yay!
Hope to see you writing too, Betsy!