When I was young all I wanted to be was a writer. As a matter of fact, I actually wrote my first novel in eighth grade…long hand, with a purple ink pen. But through the years, my dream of writing drifted farther and farther from the realm of reasonable possibilities, until I finally I gave up.
But as a young mother of three kids, God revived that call. At first I was scared, but then I got excited. Oh the plans I made—I’d write Bible studies and spend my time traveling, speaking and working for God.
I finished my first Bible study and the printer ink was barely dry before I had the manuscript in an envelope and on the way to publisher. I could see my future so clearly and I was on fire, with plans to do great things in His kingdom. All He had to do was open this one door.
Not only did He not open that door, it seemed every other door had slammed shut and locked. It quickly became obvious that going and doing weren’t part of the call He’d placed on my life. Instead, the doors at home began to swing wide, as He invited me to share my story with those closest to me.
I finished my first Bible study and the printer ink was barely dry before I had the manuscript in an envelope and on the way to publisher. I could see my future so clearly and I was on fire, with plans to do great things in His kingdom. All He had to do was open this one door.
As I swallowed my pride and became obedient to act where He’d placed me, the fruit began to grow. Years later, going and doing has become part of my call, but first I’d had to learn obedience and the difference between His will and mine.
