It’s been a year since our friend Mike, once my “future husband,” a groomsman in our wedding (yes, how’s that for irony?), the biggest smile I’ve ever met, killed himself.
I can’t erase the finding out, texting the news to my best friend (obviously I had lost my mind, how insensitive could one be?), watching the amazing funeral service via live stream on our giant-screen Mac next to my husband, blubbering.
We hadn’t seen Mike in years, we didn’t have any idea what was going on with him, but obviously he was an important person in the formative years of our relationship and thinking of him taking his own life haunted me for weeks. It still does, of course, but not to the same degree.
Just before then, I was writing gung-ho on my devotional. In February, after last year’s Blissdom, I wrote about canceling my contingency plan. I was writing fervently, convinced I could finish the composition in April and work on editing and design in May, hoping to release the e-book on May 26, 2012 … my 30th birthday.
Before April 4, the morning we found out, the words flowed freely. After, they stopped. I spent so much time haunted by nightmares and waking thoughts there was no room left for biblical peace to flow.
And then in July I got pregnant unexpectedly. And if you know me and this blog at all, you probably know that I am an absolutely miserable pregnant woman. The shock of the pregnancy, the sickness that followed, the attempt just to keep up with my other kids until Joshua was born on March 16th … it was all I could do.
During October I wrote 31 Days of The Book. It brought new air to me spiritually, and I usually found something to write about. But I also don’t want to recycle a lot of already-published posts for an e-book. I want at least half of it to be fresh.
And here it is, April again, with nothing but 7000 words in a Google doc titled “devotional” staring at me.
With Jeff Goins, whose blog and story have meant a lot to me the last year, I am forcing myself to shout I AM A WRITER. No matter how much it doesn’t feel true right now. Even in newborn exhaustion, sciatic pain, feelings of absolute psychosis … I am still a writer. It is what God made me. And I still want to finish this book and see where it goes. So much.