There is a part of a writer that has to let go and let the mind wander to "what if" places. When I attempted to find those places, my mind just sunk into grief. I indulged myself in a lot of grief for many months.
During that time I distracted my mind with a lot of projects. Some of them are documented here on this blog. There came a time I had to come face-to-face with the calling of writing. Was I still a writer? Were there more books in my future? Should I stop writing? Is God through with using me in this way?
I found that I really like to do projects around the house. I also like to quilt. (I've never taken lessons, but I like to do it.) I like to garden and do outside work. Do I do that instead of writing? I was praying about this one day and I had a strong impression that I had to move away from soaking myself in grief. I felt that I had built a monument to my sister and walked away from my calling. I don't want to do that anymore. I still miss her, but there are more books to write.
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