I stand at the crock pot of words swimming in concepts, ideas steaming. A spoon for tasting, I season and stir, I scoop, I sniff, adjusting the flame to boil then simmer then back again.
For over a year now I’ve been developing a novel dedicated to my ancestry. It swirls in my head. The characters wake me up and make me stay up typing. Plot twists plague me. What-ifs follow me to work, at work, at home.
It is in honor of: My grandmother who birthed 6 children and raised 2. An aunt and uncle whose stillborn daughter saddened them to tears in their 70s in spite of raising 10 children who gave them multiple grandchildren and great-grandchildren. A 3-great grandfather, an abolitionist who was thrown out of his church in 1804. Someone who, until further notice will remain nameless, was date raped twice. A sister whose toddler couldn’t clear the railroad tracks in time. My great-grandparents who lost 3 children in as many weeks to a diphtheria epidemic before they could escape with the remaining children.
It won’t all be loss and sadness. My imaginary people will deal with not only loss, but leaning on God in their loss and pain for comfort and healing as well as experiencing joy, passion, forgiveness, rage, disrespect, humility, WWII, and the societal chaos of my growing up years in the 60′s.
I’ve personally been around a few blocks in a few towns. You see me where I am but you don’t see how I got here and how I avoided consequences of some major stupidity. I write for my family and anyone else who feels like God isn’t there or isn’t fair. I touch on various concepts from a personal perspective such as the possibility of inheriting poor behavior, how to forgive when resolution and restoration is improbable, overcoming failure, and loving in one direction.
I was explaining my literary goals to my husband who responded that I needed some serious comic relief, an oxymoron in and of itself. He’s more than happy to contribute his own little rascal experiences with Tommy Wincek back in Minneapolis. When I stopped to think about it, his mother has her own set of Lucy Ricardo scenarios to offer. Throwing in some of my own memories may turn the whole thing into a comic book.
We’ll see.
I think my primary focus is forgiveness with and without restoration. That and obedience to God’s will are keys for keeping the faith. Grudges have no place in the Kingdom of God. Rebellion is a road block to peace.
How do you forgive God for taking your children? How do you forgive yourself for screwing up over and over and over? How do you deal with the devastation that comes from other people’s rotten decisions?
In light of “been there, done that, bought the T-shirt” I hope to guide my readers so that they don’t step in the same pies I have. And if they have, I hope to help them scrape their shoes.
