I distinctly remember what it looked like outside my window as I drove down the highway. The sun was up but off to the right and high enough that it wasn't blinding me. The sky was a pale blue speckled with fluffy white clouds that were so far away you almost didn't notice them, but they were there. There are a definite lack of trees in the Texas Panhandle but wherever I was at the time I remember seeing a line of trees on either side of the highway a distance away from where I was. This is the clearest part of the picture because it was there, as I was praying, that I saw what I was looking for.
I had been wrestling with the same question for quite some time. It's fair to say I'm somewhat directionless. I often tell people I shouldn't have gone to college until I had some sense of focus. I could potentially go to school for the rest of my life, get a slew of degrees, and still not feel like I've accomplished anything worthwhile. If you asked me what I'd like to do as a career I'd probably say, "Nothing. As soon as it becomes a career I'd lose interest." In fact, the word career leaves me feeling suffocated and boxed in. If you pressed me to pick one I'd struggle as I listed off interests that could potentially be careers: archaeology, teaching, some kind of clerical position, author, theologian, photographer (of archaeological and anthropological studies/sites), diagnostician, actress. . .the list could go on. All of this to say I struggled with, and still do to some degree, what I can do with whatever talents I have to serve the God I so love.
So there I was, driving down the road toward home, praying. "God, what can I do? I want to do something! I want it to be what You have planned for me and I want it to glorify You - but what?" I started listing things off to Him that I thought might be the answer. I don't remember specifically asking for a "sign" but I was hoping for some kind of confirmation.There, in the midst of my crying out, I brought up writing. I'd always wanted to write. I never thought it would necessarily amount to much but it was something I greatly desired and loved to do. I started saying different ideas I'd had in this vein. I could write Christian fiction. I could write bible studies. I could, I don't know, write in LiveJournal or whatever and see if anyone reads it. Screenplays for Christian films? "Whatever it is You would want me to write I would write it. I just need to know if that's what You want me to do!"
In the distance, from amidst the line of trees I saw them. Three birds took flight and soared high into the sky. The two flanking the third were black, and the one flying in the center was pure white. I don't know why, it's not like birds symbolize something to me or I had asked for this specific vision, but I just knew when I saw that white bird in the middle that I had finally hit on something. Call it silly, call it superstitious, but I knew in my heart, at that moment, that I was supposed to write. I've spent eleven years trying to figure out what.
(Part One)





