To Write

I've been blessed to work at a rather dreamy and fulfilling job for the past 7 years.  As the Media & PR Manager at a large food bank, I've thanked God time and time again for placing me at an organization with heart and purpose.  And for a position that encompasses so many of the gifts he has given to me.  I've been able to do graphics, photography and face to face interviews with remarkable families struggling to make ends meet. I've grown close and learned from an awesomely eclectic group of co-workers, met a host of incredible contacts around the country and was able to incorporate my passion for writing into my work.  I was entrusted to create a kids club which has captured my heart.  I started blogs and social media marketing strategies and chaired auction committees and produced videos and t-shirts and logos.  Like I said, I've been blessed.  And so very happy and content to be where I've been.

I turned in my resignation to my boss and friend of seven years this past Monday.  On December 19, I'll clean out  all 200 photos of my nearest and dearest in my homey office overlooking the Rocky Mountains and I-70 traffic whizzing by.  I'll make my illegal u-turn, head home down construction ridden I-225 for the last time and most likely weep.  Shocker, I know. As sad as I am to be leaving this 106,000 square foot warehouse that has been a part of me since before my son was even a thought, I haven't been this excited about the future in my 34 years on planet earth.

About six months ago I started feeling a tug at my heart.  A tug that started subtlety, but with confidence and determination. Through observing a radical change in the life of a close girlfriend, I've been making a concentrated effort to spend more time with God and his word and other people's words about faith.  And in that process I've been doing a lot of listening, not to my own head and heart but to what God might be telling me about HIS ideas on things.  I've never been good at this.  Not to say that I am now, but I've been working on it. The tug I tried ignoring at first was one centered around my career and how I spend my working days.  It was one that included complex threads about writing.  Writing more than the food bank newsletters and blog posts about donors and events.  It included big, personal stuff like a memoir about our infertility and adoption journey and a children's book that my kids can relate to and a blog centered on connecting with people who don't have an outlet to connect.  It included writing articles about things relating to my experiences and my passions - all things placed with divine purpose into my life.

I started talking to Tim about the tug.  Slowly, but with intention.  He knows that writing is a giant piece of my heart and my soul and my saneness, if that's a word.  He knows I'm good at it and that I need it.  And I don't mean that lightly.  I really, truly need it.  He knows that it comes easily.  And he knows that it's been a dream of mine to write for a living.  Always a dream but never something I considered acting upon.  We decided to invest in sending me to a once-in-a-lifetime writing retreat in Tubac, Arizona this past month. God worked the angles on that one and made the trip not only feasible but one that I ended up sharing with the girlfriend referenced above.  My motivation.  My biggest advocate.  We went to Tubac and spent 5 days with 8 astonishingly beautiful and raw people.  Not to mention our fearless leader, Laura Munson, New York Times bestselling author, teacher, counselor of words and mentor extraordinaire.  I knew this retreat would make or break my considerations to leave my food banking world.

After 5 days of writing, counseling, digging deeper than I thought possible, bonding, creating, drinking wine, eating cheese, crafting messages, screaming, sleeping soundly, basking in the Arizona sun, soaking in hands on, heart knowledge and advice, changing my mind and then re-confirming what I knew all along, I made a decision.  A decision to answer the tug and to write.  Not for myself, but for the reasons I know God will continue to place in my heart.  Because God knows that I can put it all on the page without fear.  I can be raw and open and honest and passionate and do it according to what he's calling me to do.  In my voice and my ability to filter the noise that will come along with it.  And because of that confidence, I'm not afraid.

The reality of quitting your job to become a writer can be daunting.  Let's be clear.  It IS daunting.  For every writer in every genre.  In my months of research, talking to writers, joining writing groups, subscribing to blogs, crafting a schedule that will hopefully work, praying, developing my goals and platform and other bumbo jumbo, I'm confident in one thing.  It aint gonna be easy.  For me or for our family.  It might be three years before the first draft of my memoir is ready for an editor to demolish in red pen.  That piece took me a good chunk of time to wrap my mind around.  But I think I'm there and I'm practicing putting my big girl, patient pants on.  And in the meantime, God has gifted us with signs and solutions for this sudden lack of my income.  I was offered a consistent contract position with my food bank, which is like a dream.  I won't lose them and I'll get to focus on the aspects of my current job nearest to my heart.  I've been selling photo frames I dreamed up at a craft fair - for really good money.  Tim's job started rewarding him for his ability to be the irreplaceable employee he is.  It's like God handed us a silver platter with the words, "Thank you for listening and for taking the leap.  You're gonna be okay."

This is a leap and I'm well aware that is sounds leapy.  But I'm so grateful to the peeps in my life that have giggled with glee through this discovery of purpose.  For the undying support and affirmation that THIS is what I was created to do.  And for gentle coaching through the process.  I'm grateful for those who have approached me with a sense of childlike wonder in their eyes as they explain how much they wished they answered their call when they heard it and how excited they are to meet someone who's taking the leap. The support I've felt from my other half, my love, my right hand has been steady and calm.  Without that, this wouldn't be happening.  He sees that there's a difference between leaping blindly and leaping in faith.  Rest assured that I'm doing the latter.  And it's gonna be okay. Better than okay.