Sadly, many of us came from homes that did not celebrate us or our accomplishments. So many times I tried to get my mother’s attention by being good, getting good grades, even accomplishing things at school.
She, in her own world of hurt and past abuse, never seemed to notice.
Then, my dream came true. Only a select few students from our entire school were invited to an author’s workshop. I so wanted to go. From my earliest years I wanted nothing more than to be an author.
She didn’t seem to care. No arrangements were made to get me there. Later, I learned that when my mother told my teacher I couldn’t go, she offered to come and get me herself. Her offer was turned down.
Someone recognized a gift I had, but because my mother could not seem to find a way out of her own depression, hurt and woundedness, I was robbed of that opportunity.
I always wondered what that would have been like to go.
I let go of my dream of being a writer for many years. I didn’t think anyone believed in me. Until one day, in prayer, I felt the Lord’s leading to write.
I started with blog posts, then published some devotions, and moved on to books. I never thought I’d be able to do it. I didn’t realize how much my mother not being interested affected me.
But God believed I could write. He continually brought it up in prayer, and brought opportunities and people to encourage me. And when things happened to discourage me (and that seemed to happen a lot), He would always bring the encouragement I needed to keep writing, to keep going, to not quit.
Sadly, because of her own choices and circumstances, my mother never laid eyes on one of my books. I never got to show her what I did.
But it is not her that I write for.
I write for my Heavenly Father, I write for those who have suffered brokenness, who want to learn to heal, to trust, and to forgive. I write for myself, and I write for you.
It is my hope, that in putting my heart on the pages of my books, that you the reader will be blessed, but will also be transformed in some way. That you’ll hear my story and the prayers I lead you in, and you’ll find courage to face one more day, to know that the pain you struggle with is not the end of your story, that there is a way out, a way through.
The way is not always easy. I’ve had to get up and face the day when I really haven’t wanted to. I’ve had to face the pain when I’d rather run away from it. But I never walked alone, and neither do you. I am here. Your Heavenly Father is here with you this very moment.
If He doesn’t seem as real to you as He could be, you can ask Him to make himself real to you. He is faithful. He will answer your prayer. He will show you a way out of the pain when there seems to be no way.
I hope that my writing will give you a little courage, a little encouragement, and most of all, hope. If I have done that, If I have touched your heart, then I know I have not written in vain.
I love each and every one of you. Even if we never meet in person, know you are on my heart, and I think of you as I write.
In His love,
Carolyn
