Life is a funny thing. I often wonder if anyone ever feels the way I do about it – that this isn’t at all what I expected it to be. Not all bad – just so different. Will it all come together at some point in an “AHA!” moment? Will I ever see the purpose behind this pain – enough of a purpose that I can use it to propel forward? Or will it just be a series of little moments that never really string together? I think of all the things I’d love to do…
I want to write a book. I’ve wanted to on and off for a while, but these past few months – well, probably since Kaden died – I’ve felt this urge to write one.
I know what it’ll be about.
I know the title.
I have the chapters in my head.
I’ve read about traditional publishing and self publishing and even contacted a company that helps self publish.
Then I sit down and become paralyzed by writing a whole book. (And yes, even breaking it into chapters is still overwhelming because it’s chapters of a whole book lol.) I over think it – where do I begin? Do I plan out the book in those idea bubbles? Research? Just start writing?
What if no one reads it? What if it’s a huge flop and gets terrible reviews on Amazon?
Does self publishing mean I’m saying I don’t think I can get a traditional publisher so I’m taking the second rate choice?
And before you know it – I’ve talked myself right out of writing a word and am back to thinking again.
It isn’t a novel – but more of a memoir with a “guide” (understanding there is no absolute right way) to grief – things I’ve learned from therapy, other’s stories, and doing some of it right and wrong the past 2 1/2 years. With family, with friends, with work, grieving publicly, second rounds of grief, in our marriages, with other children – etc. I want it to be something you can pick up 40 years after losing a child or on the way home from the doctor who broke the news.
My dream is that it is a comforting, encouraging, but honest take on how you can have life, faith, and a purpose beyond anything you can imagine after you lose a child. That it will shatter you, it’ll be one of the most horrible things you can imagine, that every day brings a knife to your heart in some way for the rest of your life – but in the midst of that can unfold a life and perspective you’ve never thought possible.
Here my train of thought is, “The market is saturated with grief and loss books Diana. You really need to add to that?”
Obviously my self talk needs a bit of help.
I don’t think, no matter what my thought process is, that I’ll start anything this month. There are times I wonder if this trip to Zimbabwe will change a lot for me – maybe even send me in a new direction.
I pray a lot for direction these days. It may seem that I have so much going on and it’s all fulfilling – and yes to both. But there is still a deep desire to do something with my life that soothes at least a small part of this ache. To get beyond my own grief and loss, push away from my comfortable life and days more. To make an impact for Christ – even beyond the little I may do on this blog. I love writing here, but if this was it for me? I don’t know that I would be ok with that.
That’s when I wonder – will anything be that feeling for me this side of heaven? Even if all three boys had lived. If I wrote a bestseller. If I became an advocate for women’s health, we had a perfect family, I was a really great person ;), if everything worked out exactly the way I thought it should have –
I know it wouldn’t. So I press on anyway – because my calling here is bigger than my need for constant fulfillment. I do know that.