On Writing

When I felt the Lord calling me to write I was 23, married and a high school dropout with two children. I was also ill much of the time and as a stay at home mother with a military husband, life was stretched thin to say the least. When would I possibly find time to write?

But the obstacle of time was small compared to other problems. I had never been in a public library. I did not know there was such a thing as a Christian bookstore. I could not type. Outside of the Bible, I had not read three books cover to cover in my life and, thanks to mild dyslexia, I could hardly spell well enough to write a legible letter to my mother. It goes without saying that I had no idea how books got published. Me? A writer? Yet, the Lord had given me a passion that had nagged me since childhood and I could not get past the feeling that now was the time to begin.

The only thing I had going for me was that I knew the Bible and I what He had done in my life. I desperately wanted to share those things with others and I was foolish enough to believe that if He had actually called me, He would also take care of any obstacles that stood in the way.

So, with a pencil and paper borrowed from my children’s school supplies, I set about learn the craft of writing. I listened to the radio (preachers mostly) and thought about how they formed sentences and developed thoughts. I practiced writing the same sentence dozens of ways then studying which one was most effective and why. These efforts were helped tremendously when I received my first dictionary! Although my husband, Bill, never went so far as to say he approved of my efforts, when he brought the book home, I could tell by his eyes that he believed in me and somehow that helped me believe as well.

We left the Air force in 1970 to pursue Bill’s dream of being a rancher, but--like most small ranchers—he also held full time job to pay the bills as well as running a hundred head of mama cows. By 1975 I had been working at learning to write for eight years. My total output was one article sold to a church magazine, teaching myself to type and my first non-fiction book three-fourths finished.

I don’t know if I would ever have pulled up enough courage to actually submit to a publisher, but when a recession hit the nation our farm was suddenly in deep financial distress in spite of all the hard work Bill had invested. We were not going to be able to make the next mortgage payment. All resources were dry and the only hope of saving the farm was if the book I had worked on for so long might actually be worth some money. The problem was, I had no idea how to contact a publisher.

It was then, while visiting family my brother-in-law came up with a suggestion. He grabbed a paper from a stack by his chair and said, “I have no idea if these folks publish books, but I like their stuff and there is an address on the back. Why don’t you send them what you’ve got and see what happens?"

Looking back, I realize now what a miracle it was, but I followed his advice and within two weeks I had a response back from a major publisher telling me a contract was in the mail. My advance from Victor Press literally saved the family farm.

Giddy from this first flush of success, I thought surely I would soon be busy traveling, ministering to groups and writing more books. I could see me on a stage and prayed hard that God might keep me humble.

He did.

Instead of writing more books, financial pressures increased and I soon I went to work as an Avon Lady. Although I would publish again in 1978, Bill would be killed in 1979 and I spent the next five years running our cattle ranch single handed.

Of course that is not the end of the story. Along the way I earned a high school diploma, raised four kids, wrote a couple more books, entered college at age 43 earning Associate, Bachelor and Master Degrees in five years flat. Then, God dragged me kicking and screaming with protest into Dallas where I was Licensed as a Professional Counselor and worked on staff with a mega-church for 12 years. I published a couple more books and finished my Ph. D. in Religion and Society from Oxford Graduate School shortly before turning fifty-five.

Now, I’m retired, back again in East Texas and again pecking away at a keyboard. Life hasn’t always been easy, but it’s seldom been boring and I can’t help but wonder what my testimony will look like when I am 75?