I love to write. I can trace it all the way back to elementary school. I loved to read so writing just seemed to be the natural extension. I had the opportunity to go to a creative writing class during the summer after fifth grade. Each day we wrote stories and shared them in front of the class. Mr. Yocum would critique us. I discovered that I loved it ...
I began to journal on a consistent basis on January 1, 1994. That was the day my Nana died. I wrote about her homecoming. As I look back over my many journals, I read true stories of joy, heartache, and pain. I recorded my thoughts and feelings over the years.
But the pattern I see over and over is the God who loves me. You see, He was there when I was hurt and I held it in and refused to cry. He was there when I rebelled and did my own thing. He was there when I was burdened. He was there to bring joy to my heart no matter what was going on in my life.
I continue to write in my journals. But for years now I've been blogging. I get to write and share with many people I've never met. My writing has opened up new relationships with other bloggers. I'm discovering my voice. So I continue to write.
Blessings and love,