If any of you are a fan of old movies, you may recognize this bit of repartee from the classic film Breakfast at Tiffany's: 

What a solid, self-assured statement. It wasn't one I repeated with any kind of confidence a few months ago. When pressed, I would say that I enjoyed writing. Or I might even call myself an "aspiring author", but that was as assured as I got. I had gotten used to sharing with people that I was writing a fantasy adventure series for teens, and even that I had finished my first book last year, but I didn't feel like I was entitled to identify myself as a writer. When people asked if I was going to publish, I was wishy-washy. Publishing would be nice, but it was more like a hobby that I hoped to share with others someday.
​So I said.

My hesitation could be justified, I suppose. A bold claim needs to be backed up. No one wants to find out that they're no good at something they love. It wasn't until the Catholic Writers Guild Conference that I realized how afraid I was to embrace what God was calling me into. 

The realization came when one of the authors at the conference offered me a bright, golden button that read, "Ask me about my BOOKS!-- Catholic Writers Guild Member." I quickly--and sheepishly--told her that I couldn't wear one of those buttons, because I had not been published. She just as quickly asked me if I was writing, had ever written, or even had an idea for a book. Of course, I had. THAT, she informed me, was what I should tell people about when they heeded the button. It was a revelation. 

Something changed in me in that moment. I went from feeling like the rookie with nothing to offer, someone who was "not there yet" or might never get there, to feeling like I belonged. I was a writer. Not because I had been published. Not because I had a blog with ten thousand followers. Not because I had sold something I had written. I was a writer because I wrote. Plain and simple. Because God gave me a gift that He wanted me to use. Because I followed the tug on my heart that said, "WRITE." 

The time for burying my coins in a hole in the ground was done. Now it was time to see what I, by the grace of God, could make of them.

My confidence grew as I practiced my "elevator pitch" on the people I met, and was met with interest and enthusiasm. I could only marvel. Maybe there was something to this after all. And when my pitch went well, resulting in a request for a book proposal, I finally began to admit to myself that God might actually want to do something with this. That realization was as exciting as it was terrifying. What would need to change in my life if He really did want this of me? And let's be honest, just because I had a great idea for a book didn't mean I could write one well. Still, that echo of a dream that had long been in my heart reverberated as I actually began to consider that I may have been selling God short.

Years later, I told a few of my friends about a different story. It was my first fantasy adventure, and their enthusiasm opened me up to the possibility that people other than myself might actually be interested in my stories, too. 

One of the most impactful moments came while watching a one-man play about the life of St. Maximilian Kolbe. At one point, I was struck by the words spoken in the play by this Saint: "Don't worry, I will not write anything that the Immaculata herself would not write." The Immaculata was Kolbe's favorite name for Jesus' mother, Mary. The power of Mary's example comes from her "fiat", her response to God's call in her life--"Let it be done unto me according to your word." And later, her unmitigated trust in her Son at the wedding in Cana--"Do whatever He tells you." 

After the play, I prayed a prayer of surrender, offering all of my gifts and talents to the Lord to use however He saw fit. A few weeks later, the plot of my fantasy adventure book exploded, and suddenly new themes and characters made the story come alive as it never had before. One book turned into a trilogy. My little story became an epic. Over the next several years of writing that story, I learned so much about myself and the Lord, and what it meant to write for His glory. 

Fast-forward to four years ago. A friend of mine shared with me that he'd heard J.R.R. Tolkien would pray to the Angel of Inspiration while writing The Lord of the Rings, and that the angel had helped him whenever he got stuck. I had run into writers block in my trilogy, and decided to do the same.  

A few weeks later, I woke up in the morning with an idea in my head. A new idea. For a new story. One that grabbed me and wouldn't let go. I started writing. A few months later, I had a series outlined. I shared the idea with some of the youth I worked with, and they elicited a promise from me that I would finish Book One before they graduated from eighth grade. Months of writing and imagining and praying and revamping turned into years. And by the grace of God, last June, just three days after eighth grade graduation, I finished my very first book. 

At the time, I didn't know if anyone other than my students would ever read my story. Well, they and a few friends. And my mom. Haha. But somehow in God's timing and wisdom, He set just the right things in motion to get me to the Catholic Writers Guild Conference 2022, where He gave me the opportunity to pitch that story, and ask the very real question of what He is calling me to next. 

I'm a writer. Indeed.

Full disclosure: I get really anxious when I face the unknown. Familiar? Yeah. I don't think I'm alone in this. Going to the Catholic Writers Conference 2022, I walked smack up against a lot of unknowns. Being a newcomer to The Catholic Writers Guild, and never having attended any kind of writing conference before, I felt much like a freshman on the first day of school. Green. Clueless. With "Rookie" painted in bold letters on my forehead. 

I didn't sleep much for about two weeks leading up to the conference, just trying to be as prepared as possible. The idea of pitching my (no-so) little story to someone who edits books professionally was really intimidating. What if my idea was trash? What if I found out I'm a terrible writer? What if this whole writing thing was all me and not God? What if this dream was foolish, unattainable, unfounded? Self-doubt had me spinning. ​

And yet...

In the midst of the turmoil, God called me to follow Him into the next right step. That sounded familiar, too.

Have you every had a life-compass crisis? You know, one of those moments where you find yourself with your head in your hands, asking, "What am I doing with my life?" I seem to have those every few years. It tends to happen when I get comfortable. When I start to think I have finally gotten "the hang of things" and know how to live life. 

That's when God taps me on the shoulder and asks me where I'm going. My answer is always the same:
​I HAVE NO IDEA. 

As much as it feels like a crisis at the time, that is always the moment when the Lord begins to introduce a new idea, a new direction. Sometimes the new direction is an attitude. "Acceptance with Joy." Sometimes it is a new conviction. "Chocolate is not actually food group," (though I may be in denial). Sometimes it is a timeless truth. "God cares about ME more than He cares about what I can DO for Him." 

And sometimes He reminds me of the same beautiful things He has been whispering to my heart for years: 

He gives me a lamp for my feet, not the whole path with all its challenges, failures, and triumphs. Because if I could see those challenges now, I might be too afraid to take the road at all. I might be too afraid to risk failure. I might be too afraid of the pain the comes from falling--or climbing. I might be afraid of the sacrifice. I might try to take shortcuts. The "easy" way. Or a way that seems better to me at the time. Or I might be too proud of what will be accomplished. I may forget that the gifts are only a glimmer of the Giver, who gives all good things. So, God shows me enough to keep me going, to take the next right step, as long as I keep trusting Him for that light. 

The Lord reminded me of this image, the lamp for my feet, as He invited me into the adventure of the Catholic Writers Conference. Whatever comes of it--whether my book is ever published or not--He assured me that attending was the next right step. I'll never know the answers if I never ask the questions. I'll never be anything but a rookie if I never attempt to play. I'll never know what the Lord can accomplish in me and through me if I never have the courage to hand Him my loaves and fishes. 

So here we are. I have offered my loaves and fishes. Now they get broken. And hopefully blessed. But I won't know for a while yet. And that's okay. Because the Lord has given me a lamp for my feet, and I trust that He has my best interest at heart in this next right step, wherever it may lead from here.