“And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God” – Romans 12:2, KJV
I began writing at an early age. I like to think that I got it from my grandma. She was known as the class poet. I became known as the writer of scary stuff! Did I mention I like scary stuff?
God took hold of my writing in 8th grade. I was responsible for typing and laying out the church’s weekly bulletin. One week he had a family emergency and didn’t have time to write the devotional. Instead of recycling an old issue, I asked if I could write it that week. It was my job from that point forward.
My novels shifted as well. I began writing for a purpose and with a message. I realized that it became an outlet for me. I wrote about what I knew; what I was going through or had been through. It helped me find direction and God’s voice in the midst of the storm.
In 2017 I married my husband and left my family, friends, and career with the state of Arkansas to move three states away to Florida. Four months later as we were preparing to PCS (move) across the US to Idaho, my parents’ home caught fire. Thankfully, they were okay. However, the house was gone with a lot of their belongings. My longtime family pet, who was staying with them, was also lost. It was difficult since we were three days from retrieving her.
That messed me up. I stopped writing that day. I went down a dark home of unforgiveness. My husband immediately deployed once we reached Idaho. I was left without a support system. No church home. No friends. No family.
I lost my voice. I couldn’t pray. I couldn’t think. I became angry. I lost direction and purpose. Essentially I lost who I was. I tried to make friends, but I never truly fit the crowd. I have always marched to a beat of a different drum and was strong in my convictions and beliefs. I found myself conforming to try and fit in. It didn’t work.
It was months before I realized that I was suffering from PTSD due to back-to-back trauma with no time to adapt and overcome. It took almost two years of begging for help before I was approved and referred to a therapist. In the meantime, I found a church home.
I still didn’t have anything to write.
I began a blog in 2017 that focused on the woes of being a military spouse. That shifted into health fitness content. Despite losing 100 pounds, being physically active, and being interested in a healthy lifestyle, neither one of these niches was me.
There was a part of me that wanted to talk about faith and God. But I didn’t. I feared offending someone. And I didn’t feel worthy.
I’ve never been afraid of stepping on toes when talking about my faith. I watered myself down in order to fit in, losing more of myself. Until it hit me. The truth does not depend on people’s lies, and bending to their beliefs didn’t do me any favors. Or God. That was never His will for me and my life. He didn’t set me apart to conform to this world. I can respect your choice, but I am still to honor God’s word. That’s who I was and who I am.
It’s taken a wake-up call to draw me back to Him and His calling on my life. I’ve written more since my purple heart achievement than I have in the past four years.
I was called out a long time ago. To raise the standard; to be a witness.
And here I stand, called out.
