Just a few minutes ago, I turned in the first draft of a book I had written. It was number seventeen for me. Seventeen. It made me wonder how all this had happened.
When I was growing up, I thought I was going to be a teacher. When I was in high school, I realized that wasn’t for me, and I thought I would probably end up with some kind of office job. Practical. Respectable. Unremarkable.
But about that same time I also started writing. Nothing big. Certainly nothing memorable or worthy to be offered to the public. If I remember right, it was mostly “episodes” of TV shows I liked. Early fan fiction, I suppose.
I went on to get my degree in business and immediately found a job as an accountant. But still I wrote. I began writing on my lunch hour and at night and on the weekends. I didn’t plan to publish, I was just amusing myself, writing the book I wanted to read. Not books. Book. It took me eleven-and-a-half years and a lot of urging from the only friend I showed my story to, but I finally got it published. I thought that would be the only one. Forever and ever, amen.
Fast forward to a few minutes ago. I put the “The End” on Book Seventeen. How did this happen?
I’m so glad that, even when I don’t have a clue, God sees me and knows what He made me for and guides me the way He wants me to go.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” – Jeremiah 29:11
What have you looked back on, not seeing until then what God has done for you?