Rising from the Ashes

It's good to blogging again.

A year ago, after almost ten years of scribbling my thoughts into a word processor, stuffing them into a blog page, and tossing them out into the vast, violent sea that is the internet, I decided to take a break. I'd made some great friends. I'd written some decent things. But I was kind of sick of myself, and I figured other people were probably sick of me, too, so I took down my shingle and mentioned that my little blog might someday rise from the ashes and find its way back into the blogosphere, that I might see you all again later.

And here I am.

This past year has been full of twists and turns. In May of 2010, my dad was diagnosed with agressive prostate cancer requiring radical treatment. In October of 2010, my husband lost the job he'd chosen over the long-term employment with a family-owned company he'd enjoyed but had been too far to continue commuting from the quaint country to the scamper of the city. With three young children at home, one just returning from a year-long service trip to Africa, and one entering her third year of college, I think it's fair to say that we totally freaked out. We did what most normal, middle-income, debt-buried Americans would do in such a situation.

We cried our eyes out

I bawled and yelled and questioned God. I was angry, scared, and indignant. How would we continue paying for a house we'd barely been able to afford to begin with? How long would it take to find another income? And would I, the stay-at-home mom, have to leave what I'd commited to and step behind the register of the first fast food joint that would hire me? 

We shared our frustrations with close friends, spiritual advisors, and our compassionate church family. With the help of their wise counsel, we were soon looking at our situation in a new way. Instead of feeling like we'd been dealt a disaster, we began to believe we'd been given a fresh start. 

After all, we'd long discussed turning our personal passions into our livelihoods. And we'd also wanted to reduce our living expenses, which would now be completely necessary.

So we threw ourselves into pursuing our interests in ways we'd never allowed ourselves before. My husband started a recording project with his band, Honeytown, and I became their band mama and calendar queen, promoting the guys and booking the gigs. Friends offered us a chance to help them get their bakery business off the ground by scrubbing equipment, painting, carpentry and anything else they could find for us to do. And I began to seek ways to publish my writing. 

I've been writing for 35 years, since I was old enough to realize that putting pencil to paper was cathartic, and I'd hoped to pursue writing and graphic design as a career. But when Toby and I had children, I decided that I needed to put my career on hold to commit to raising and educating my kids. It was a season, I said, and when that season had passed, I'd have time to commit to writing.

But I never stopped writing. Whether jotting in journals, corresponding with friends or strangers, presenting writing workshops or creative writing classes, or offering my instrospection and encouragement on my blogs, Today's Lessons and Time to Cook, I maintained a steady flow of words. 

Now, with the new development in our employment situation, I felt it was time to fully pursue writing, to begin putting into practice all of the workshops, lectures, classes, books and articles I'd digested over the years. With the help of a fellow writer, I was able to secure a job writing freelance features for a local newspaper. A piece I submitted to Farming Magazine--home of such notable literary contributors as Wendell Berry, Gene Logsdon and David Kline--about my childhood dream of living off the land was accepted for publication by the editor, who called it "charming." I began to devote each morning to writing and submitting articles to trade and literary magazines, contests and online journals. One week, I received several rejections, including a letter from my local library letting me know that the page position I had applied for had been filled by someone else, a part-time job I felt would help keep us afloat while my husband and I worked to establish ourselves in our new fields. 

On a cold, rainy Friday morning in March, 2011, I was thrilled to receive a fat manilla envelope in the mail containing a letter notifying me that all of my entries in three categories--poetry, nonfiction and short story--had won first place in the Wayne College Regional Writing Awards. While I'd hoped that my nonfiction piece, Gary the Giant, would earn a third or maybe even a second place recognition, three first place awards reduced me to a blubbering mass. Maybe I could really do this. 

So since I'd decided to reinvent myself, I thought it might be a good time to reinvent my blog, too, which will continue to be a work in progress as I explore its identity and personality. I'm excited about reconnecting with readers regularly and sharing some of the things I'm working on. I'm eager to build a community where we can support one another in our life journeys, look at seemingly overwhelming life events as opportunities, and seek out the creative gifts we hope to exercise. 

It's good to be back.