Into the Fire

. . . why I write.

There are few moments for many of us writers who labor in anonymity to give us impetus to keep going. Few and far between. Sometimes it's not important because we're compelled to continue, but at other times those moments are like the longed-for drop of water in the desert. The parched and swollen tongue can barely consume it, but oh how tasty and what relief it provides.

I recently sent a copy of my first novel (Hope of Glory) to an old friend from racing. Haven't seen this person for many years. A telephone conversation resulted. Words of affirmation served a soothing dose of comfort to my soul. Memories and laughs exchanged. Exhortations.

It's not my best work writing-wise. Far from it. But it tells a real story, a comprehensive story of life in horse racing. Using a Longacres-like racetrack as its backdrop, Hope of Glory adds a spiritual perspective to all the temptations and lifestyles of the many kinds of people who involve themselves in the multi-faceted world of Thoroughbred racing.

Some things seem so small. Insignificant. Can't put a value on them.

And then the light of God's anointing sparks in the darkness and reminds me I too have a purpose. No matter how faint, trifling, or inconsequential my efforts seem. They matter. To God. And to a few others too.

All I can say, repeatedly, Lord, is thank you. Over and over again. Thank you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.