I was in the seventh grade when best-selling author Stephen King penned The Green Mile and released the book in chapters.Â I waited with anticipation for my sister to finish so she could pass the chapter to me. Â I loved Nancy Drew mysteries and books that involved traveling the world in search of adventure. Â Those types of books always seemed to end with the main character landing priceless treasures and tales.Â The power of a well-written story captured my imagination and took me to places I never knew existed. Â Every story changed my thoughts about the world.
I’ve always dreamed of becoming a writer. My ambition was to create stories about people who were changing the world with their passion and wisdom. Â I held the notion that spreading the word about inspiring and courageous individuals whose selfless acts of service helped others find another way. I believed in a better world where people became aware through the power of a story. Â I kept a journal of quotable quotes and often imagined what transpired to inspire those quotes. In my head, powerful, educated and articulate people promoted greater good and provided opportunities for the less fortunate.
In high school I shared my dream and aspirations with my teacher. Â Our assignment was to write a short essay about hope and how faith makes a difference in the world. Â I turned in my paper and anxiously waited for the comments from the nun who taught the class. I genuinely thought her encouraging and supportive words would make it into my journal of positive thoughts. Instead, her feedback forever changed the direction of my life.
My heart sank as I read her words. She said I should leave changing the world to God and stated I should have a back up plan to hone additional skills such as typing and filing. I received a B on the essay and was too embarrassed to question her input.
I took her advice to heart and put the thought of a writing career out my mind. Following high school I struggled with which way to turn. Â I didn’t have the money for college and didn’t know what or where I wanted to be. Â My confidence waned and I had lost my sense of adventure. Â In the years that followed, I realized a back up plan would have been a better idea than the career path I had chosen.
Somewhere between the twists, turns and misadventures of my life, the twinge of a shelved dream began to tug at my soul. I had acquired experiences and lessons that I thought might help another, so I picked up my pen and began writing again.
I wrote stories about how to survive a divorce and reshape the relationships of a family. I wrote about nature, dream premonitions and what I’ve learned on my journey. Â Iâ€™ve learned that my gut is my soul speaking and will never steer me wrong. Iâ€™ve learned to listen to my intuition and trust that God works in mysterious ways.
I still dream the dream of my youth. I don’t know what God’s plan is for changing the world, but I’ve come to believe that we each play a part in the plan.
Every experience and misadventure has perhaps been a part of that plan.