Why I Write

I'm a slow processor.  I always have been.  Ask me what I'm feeling and I'll probably have a hard time verbalizing.  For some the subconscious whispers to the conscious through music, others through paint & canvas, for me it's writing.

I used to hate the smell of diesel fuel and the flashbacks it triggered: a dead man lying in the road covered with a few slim palm branches, the sound of Voodoo drums in the night, the look of emptiness in so many eyes.  I was in the country of Haiti for only ten days in 1995.  We traveled around the island by diesel truck; a large rusting beast.  When started, the engine would snarl, gears grinding in protest, and I wondered if the machine could get us from point ‘A’ to point ‘B’ without breaking down in the middle of nowhere.  And always, the smell of diesel saturated the air where ever we went. 

Then in the summer of 2005 I started writing.  I wrote about the whole experience; the good, the bad, the ugly, and the laughable.  I wrote until nothing else was left, and when I’d finished, I felt at peace with my memories.  I haven’t had a flashback since and the smell of diesel doesn’t bother me so much anymore.

For me, writing God stories is a means of taking those next step towards Jesus Christ and developing community as we learn to share the unique voice that God has given each of us.  But it’s also about healing and a method of discovering more about myself and about the loving Father who walks with me on this journey we call life.