Sometimes life takes you on a detour.
Some days I wonder why I wrote the words “Inspirational Writer” at the top of my blog, especially when I don’t feel very inspiring to anyone—let alone myself or family.
August 23, 2007 marks for us the worst day in our thirty-year marriage. My husband called me from his job here in Florida to where I was visiting our new grandson in Seattle and said he lost his job as the Director of Construction—one of the first casualties of what we soon learned what would become the recession.
In the past eighteen months, we’ve had to leave our home for six weeks for a job in another state, stop eating out and socializing with friends, reduce our spending to the bare essentials, get haircuts only when necessary, pay COBRA fees for insurance, skip dental appointments, buy only generic and cash in the meager amount of money we’ve saved for years for our retirement—all to pay our bills. We’ve applied for hundreds upon hundreds of jobs, started a new business, reactivated licenses, and read job boards like the daily mail. We’ve cried, yelled, threatened to run away, but most of all--prayed.
But that is only the back story.
What does it mean to be an inspirational writer? Does it mean inspiring others to look for the blues sky even when a tornado is surrounding your house?
Now here's the real story.
I’m not sure why every material thing I’ve ever counted on is slowing slipping through my fingers. But I think maybe it’s so I learn to lean on something greater. And trust me, I’ve run to the arms of God every day. He’s allowed me to see blessings where I might only see despair. He’s allowed me to see possibilities where I might see only dead ends. He’s allowed me to learn to live with much less and value much more.
Have you chosen to be an inspirational writer? If you have, embrace the detours in your life. Write about them and search for that blue sky—it’s usually hidden beneath that cloud.
I’m crossing a new bridge this month. Hard times make for hard decisions. But as I cross this desert—I can already see higher ground before me.