...she would really like to be a writer. My lips curled as I read the words. I could feel my chest tighten and my vision clouded over as the thoughts started swirling. This is what they think of me? That I would (supposition) like to be (passive voice) a writer?
I forced myself to breathe - to avoid the balling up of the paper and the tears most likely on their way. I chose to see the good before: she just wrote a novel, "come alive" - it's on amazon. You should check it out.
At least they promoted the book.
Here's the thing: I am a writer. This is more than some proclamation in order for me to believe it. I know it. It's in my bones. Never have I hesitated with the knowledge that who I am at my deepest core is a lover of words. My entire life folds out in moment after moment of me taking refuge in words - written and spilled. Perhaps this is why even though those words upset me, they didn't ruin my day. They didn't push me to close up shop and deem myself unworthy.
and this is huge.
It can be difficult in this world to find our approval in those who should know us best. It can be even more difficult to take the disappointment and place it where it belongs. All too often we suck it in and let it dampen the life within - the dreams pounding out a rhythm so deep we only feel the tiny flutters reverberate against our rib cage and not the beating and scraping and dragging and exploding that happens on soul-level where things are born.
Know this: the thing pulsing inside your veins was placed there for a reason and there is nothing - nothing that will stop it from coming out and showing its Beauty because He placed it there. It's His Beauty that's seen.
And if I've learned anything, it's that despite the impossibility of our circumstances, He loves when His children find that magic spot of intersecting purpose with desire.
I find the folded piece of paper and show our roommate the paragraph with the update about Russ and I. She laughs and throws her hand over her mouth. "Do they even know you?" she asks. I smile and shrug. "No. But that's okay..." thinking to myself, I know who I am in Him and what He's made me to do. For this, I will stay.
and I hear the drumbeat louder in my chest, answering that primal call of purpose within my soul.