The Eighth is Day One, but 11 Months Later
The Eighth is Day One, but 11 Months Later
Join me on this journey.
Beginnings can take long
Just about a year ago, I was starting a new job. I wanted it to coincide with this newsletter, but the job consumed most of my energy. I had little left at the end of the day. The last thing I wanted to do was sit down at a desk. But here I am, out of a job… looking for a new one and still wanting to write. The whispers, that still small trickle of words, rise from my heart and catch me off guard when I’m walking, cleaning, or getting the groceries. That brings me back to the beginning on this eighth day of December.
1. I can’t ignore the words
They keep coming — not a full stream or a wild torrent, but they come forth looking for a route to my pen or keyboard. This became clear at the Holy Hour I did at my church last Monday night. After praying for about half an hour, the words just came. I scribbled them on the inside of the back cover of a book. I had nowhere else to write, but it didn’t matter. That was the most important part! I got my ideas down on paper. I rescued them. And now, I will continue rescuing my writing, especially the work I have done over the past six years.
2. Why I’m here: Pain and hope.
In late 2016, I released my first book, Lost and Found on the Camino de Santiago. It had been years in the making, and finally, I finished it and threw a party. Many friends came, but the most important to me was my parents were there. I dedicated the book to them and a dear professor. That November night faded quickly. My mom died that following July. My father just 15 months later.
I had wanted to promote my book, but I couldn’t do much of anything, especially in that year after my mother passed away. I developed scars of pain on my heart, but in the end, I was grateful that my mom had read my book. All the years of work were worth it for that.
But the desire to write was still there. Some of the words I will share were born from the scars of that loss. But there is hope, too. That has never completely dried out, though that reservoir had sometimes become a mere puddle.
3. Book, essays, in the works & poetry
I will post chapters and parts from my book twice a month and share essays (or rants), poems, and other writing in the works. Please subscribe and share. Thank you for reading.