Which comes first? People asking about your story or your willingness to tell it? I don’t have the answers but I sure have been asking the questions. It’s actually only a part of my story. Not only can I never fully even know my own story to tell it, but there are parts that have faded into the background of my perception, where they rightfully belong and I am happy to leave them there. But the more recent part of my journey, inquiring minds want to know and I have recently found myself in the middle of conversations with people who want to know more.
Last night at the fair, another author friend and I spent a lot of time talking about our views of God and faith. Because of our discussion the day before, I brought with me and let him read a piece I’ve recently written and this spurred our conversation on for the rest of the night. He asked good in-depth questions about my experiences with God and we covered ground I’ve only walked with one or two other people. Some parts I haven’t really stopped to ponder myself and now I’m asking questions of myself I haven’t asked before and finding some answers that make sense but that I did not expect.
Why now? Why think about this now? I don’t understand that. But this has been coming up in my thoughts, my writing, and people I trust enough to talk about it with are asking about my story. The timing isn’t off, I’m just wondering why it’s right.
365-09 #240