From the very first second I learned about the Mt. Hermon Christian Writer's Conference, I was desperate to go. And when I say 'desperate,' I mean DESPERATE!
It kind of reminds me of when I met my husband. There I was, minding my own business up in Humboldt County, waiting for my Master's program to start, and then, he appeared (well, sort of appeared. . .we were 6,000 miles apart when we 'met'). In those first seconds, my life literally turned up side down: I didn't start my Master's program after all, moved to the UK, where he lived, instead and generally changed the course of my life forever.
From not knowing he even existed, to knowing this was my destiny, all in the span of a few moments.
I hadn't ever really had that kind of experience before, or since. Until I heard an offhand comment last summer:
'So, are you planning to go to the Mr. Hermon Christian Writer's Conference this year?'
I had no idea what it was. I had no idea where it was. I had no idea what one does at a Christian Writer's Conference. But I knew, down to my tippy, tippy toes, that I was supposed to be there.
As my British husband is wont to say: 'I could feel it in my waters.'
But then we had a bit of a detour, and the possibility went from 'would love to go' to 'I sure hope I get to go' to 'can't go this year.' And I tried not to be devastated. (I didn't do a very good job.)
The love I felt for my husband was almost instantaneous. . . .like my heart recognized him as already a part of who I was. My connection to writing feels similar. It's not a job I want to do, or an interest of mine. It's who I am. It's part of what makes my heart beat.
I don't know what will happen at the conference. And, really, though I have signed up and fully intend to go, there's a lot of time between now and April, so it's not certain that I will be there.
But I do know this: There are few things I have been absolutely certain I was born to do.
And writing is on that very short list.
(photo courtesy of publicdomainpictures.net and can be found here)