Writing is a risky business.
Especially when you and your life is the subject of your writing.
I’ve just pressed send on an email which contains the first draft of a chapter of my book. It’s the first time any part of my book has been read by anyones eyes but mine.
My heart is still hammering a tattoo against my ribcage as my words sit in front of someone whose job it is to edit it, make it better, make it ready for others to read.
It’s strange, because I write things that people (well a few people) read every week for this blog and for the ThinkTwice blog, and it always makes me a little nervous, sending my words out into the world to read. Sending a chapter of my story, one of the most painful times in my life is a different kind of scary.
When you’re blogging, you aren’t telling the whole story, they are snapshots of your life with a lesson you’ve learned. The writing of a whole book means that whilst you don’t need to give account for every event in your life – you have to make sure you tell the whole story – even the parts of your story that devastated you, or filled you with shame.
The beauty of the fear, however, is that I hope it means I’m writing something that will give hope. Mine is not a story that will be released as a “Tragic Life Story” – my story is neither tragic nor victorious – but it’s alive and it’s one where the God of all hope works in the most amazing ways to bring back to life the dry bones of my story.
