We were all started somewhere. And I don't mean the birds and the bees or anything with such concrete and structural attributes. I mean the pivotal points in our pasts that we can sift out from the rest as the times we realized a little further of who, exactly, we are.

The day a father pats his young son on the back after he properly hooks the tractor up to the rake; he knew then that a farmer he would become. The stay in the hospital when the nurse said just the right words to the scared little girl who had just had her tonsils out; she realized that she could help others like that, too.

I am a writer. Obvious, huh? But I mean more than just a reporter or a journalist or a hobby poet. I am a writer. When life treats me well and I am joyous for the life God has given me, I write about it. When He takes things away from me and shakes up my world, I write. My mind is always reeling and observing and most of the time words get jumbled up and don't come out of my mouth right, but you give me a pen and any surface to write on then I will give you a picture of what my thoughts look like.

The other day I found myself in a situation in which affirmation flowed like rain and I knew I was doing the right thing, going down the right path in my life. I was seeing Jewel (country/folk singer) in concert at the Fargo Theater.

Now her and I have a little history; her CD was the first one I ever had, I checked out her book of poetry so much from the library in high school that Mrs. Anderson gave it to me for graduation, I have DVDs of her concerts, all her albums and books and I even read her blog and follow her on Facbeook. No, I'm not obsessed, I just admire her to no end.

So Jewel has been a source of inspiration, formation and admiration since the beginning; my own writings have been molded from hers. And I was sitting in the theater the other night, watching this woman who molded me without any knowledge of it, listening to her words that have become so familiar. I just stared at her. In that moment, everything was promised to be OK. I knew that a writer was the only thing I could be. I knew that these stormy times would pass me and a new normality would set in someday soon. I knew that where I was and what I was doing was exactly what was supposed to be.

I've learned that times like this are few and far in between and to just sit back and reel them in when they are presented. And thats just what I did. I put my pen and paper down, shut my camera off and just watched in awe of this women who so gracefully kept true to herself and to me for so many years and let her tell me that all is in place. Just as it should be.

"Did it ever occur to you that I'm behind all this? Long, long ago I drew up the plans, and now I've gone into action…" said Jesus. 2 Kings 19:25a

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I am a writer too. I write my prayers out because verbalizing them just doesn't seem to do it for me. I lose focus and my mind wanders. This piece is great Erica. I think we need to spend some time together this next school year. If you're up for it that is.
    With love,