Why Write Now?

I have always wanted to be a writer. But writing took time, and there were other things I needed to accomplish—college, a teaching career, a master’s degree, a family—so writing got pushed aside. I tried to pick it up in various forms here and there, but I couldn’t commit.

Life happened, as it does. In 2012, my grandpa fell ill with cancer. I took family medical leave to care for him during the last four months of his life. Two weeks before he passed, my grandma was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease. Then, the night of my grandpa’s viewing, my three-year-old daughter ate a piece of peanut butter candy in the funeral home kitchen and was taken to the emergency room. That was the moment we discovered her life-threatening food allergy. How would I be able to send her to preschool next year? It was too dangerous. How would my grandma get along without my grandpa and a new disease to deal with?

My family needed me.

So, I went back to work to finish out the school year, and then I left teaching to take care of the people most important to me. I would help my grandma when needed—run errands, fix meals, etc.—and would homeschool my daughter while at it. And why not homeschool the two older children as well? Sounded like a good plan.

My teaching license was due to expire soon unless I renewed it with the required number of college credits. Even though I was taking an indefinite leave from my career, I still wanted to keep my license active. I decided this was the perfect time to take those writing courses that I had always wanted to take through the Institute of Children’s Literature. The credits would count for license renewal, and I would be taking the first step toward fulfilling a life-long dream: becoming a children’s author.

A few weeks after school released for summer vacation, my husband accidentally ran a small screwdriver through his eyeball, requiring several surgeries, a full cornea transplant, and a lot of downtime. Good thing I wouldn’t be returning to work in the fall. Life was hectic. Somehow, I managed to complete the two courses, but then I sat my dream aside. There was no time to even think about writing; I was just trying to survive.

As time went on, things didn’t get much better. Later the following year, right before Thanksgiving 2014, my diabetic father developed a terrible infection in his right foot, resulting in the amputation of his leg just below the knee. Another big blow to the family.  Then, in May, 2016, my husband was accidentally hit in his bad eye, rupturing his new cornea. Another surgery. More downtime.  But thank God doctors were able to save it!   

Fast forward to 2018, and my grandma’s Parkinson’s had progressed to a point where she could no longer do anything for herself. The smallest tasks—feeding herself, scratching her nose, moving her arm—required assistance. I was the one family member who didn’t work a paying job, so I became her daytime caregiver. Home schooling suffered. The kids would have to go back to public school. But not the youngest. I wasn’t comfortable sending her to school with a peanut allergy that just kept getting worse and worse (according to each annual blood test).

Public school brought new challenges as the family tried to adjust to the new routine that now involved early-morning commutes, late-night homework sessions, sleep deprivation, and extreme anxiety in one of my children. No time to write. I didn’t even have time to clean my house.

Then New Year’s Day 2019, rolled around and I discovered I was sick. It took three months, eight doctors, and several tests to discover that I had a bad infection. I was forced to take some time off from caregiving in order to rest and heal. Being down is hard when you’re a person who is always up doing something, but I was determined not to let this time go to waste. It would be productive, in one way or another. I was determined to meditate, pray, and do some serious soul searching. I would learn whatever lesson God wanted me to learn during this time. I began journaling again—something I hadn’t done in a long time. I realized a lot of things during those months—too many to name here—but one very important lesson…

Life is short.

I could keep waiting for the right time to write, or I could write right now. Because the truth is—and we all know it—that the right time may never come. Perhaps there never is a right time. I don’t know. What I do know is that writing is one thing with which I feel most confident. It’s the way I process information. It’s the way I most effectively communicate with others. And my illness gave me time to remember all of that. I concluded that if God had given me even a morsel of a talent, then I had better be using it. Finding time to write is still a challenge. There are many voices out there saying that real writers write every day. I wish! Right now I am trying to give myself the grace to write when I can and not beat myself up when I can’t. Someday my children will be grown and my grandmother will be gone. Then, Lord willing, I’ll write full-time. Meanwhile, I am going to enjoy my children while they’re still young, value the time that I have with my grandma, and write when I’m able.

To join my launch team for my upcoming picture book, please fill out the form below.