I rarely talk about it, some things I just assume in the thanksgiving of my heart. But it is appropriate to stop and thank GOD for a love of writing.

It was about the fourth grade that I discovered my love for writing. It would be 2013 before I would actively pursue that love. I only know about the story in the third or fourth grade because my Mom saved it for years. To my horror, she dug it out and gave it to me when I turned 15.

It was hilarious and shameful at the same time. I could not deny the story for my childish handwriting stared back at me, mockingly. I would not deny it because I recognized the story line. It embarrassed me because I did not recall having recorded what was essentially a personal fantasy. When I was little and discovered the joy of pillow kissing, I had an imaginary boyfriend named Dr. Johnny. The story my Mom had saved was titled, “Dr. Johnny and His Skeleton!” So, sing it with me.

I’m so glad that the Lord saved me
Saved me
I’m so glad that the Lord saved me
Saved me
If the Lord hadn’t saved me
Tell me where would I be
I’m so glad that the Lord saved me*

Elementary school antics aside. I remain grateful for this avenue of expression. I once devoted much time to my little people, and I dearly loved doing so. I plan to do so again, perhaps on a different scale. But GOD has moved me to this spot at this time and I find no fault in Him.

(*Adapted from the original by the Blind Boys.)