“I’m scared, Lord.”
“I know you are, but I want you to write your story. Remember Sarai.”
“Sarai? From the Bible?”
“Yes child, that Sarai. Read her story again.”
I found it right there in Genesis 16:2 (NIV). Even though she knew the Lord’s promise she, “said to Abram, ‘The Lord has kept me from having children. Go, sleep with my slave; perhaps I can build a family through her.’”
“So, Lord, Sarai went charging in, taking the bull by the horns so to speak, to make Your promise to her come true. She couldn’t wait on your timing. Lord, how does this pertain to me? To my writing this book?”
“Where am I pushing too hard Lord?”
I answer my own question with a question, “You don’t like the changes?”
The book had been sitting on my shelf for two years now. Encouraged by my husband and his sister to write my story to help other adoptive mothers cope with raising children with Reactive Attachment Disorder, I’d written the book, but because of my fear the book had become something different entirely from what it had started out to be. I’d begun researching, going down rabbit trails, fueled by the challenge of focusing on something other than the chaos of my home. Like Sarai, I wasn’t waiting on the Lord to guide my steps in the writing.
“I know you want me to finish it and publish it, Lord, but I am afraid, because if Filly reads it when she grows up, then she may become angry.”
“Is the book about her?”
“No, but I may have to write some
things about her in order to tell my story.”
“Can you trust Me?”
“Can you do as I ask each step of the way?”
“But… what if she reads it someday, Lord?”
“I will take care of that. Now finish the book I gave to you.”
And so I begin again, this time not rushing ahead but waiting and listening more closely.
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