A couple of days ago I sat down to write an article that I wanted to share with you about Nohas Arch and it was to be a short look into that time and event of the past.
I started that with Joseph and David in Phoenix to give a being and place to give life and meaning to my story. I took them from Phoenix to Flagstaff Arizona and had them camping in the high mountains close to San Francisco peak because I had been a camp host at one time in this area and was very familiar with it.
The first night of putting that to words I was about to goΒ to bed with completed at satisfied of what I had writtenΒ up to that point. Setting on the patio having my last hot cup of tea I began to dwell on what I had written and the more I thought about it the more negative I began to feel. I had written something very spiritual and warm but when looking back it was boring and decided that it should be thrown in the trash.
Climbing into bed I took my usual time of deep breathing and laid my head on the pillows intending to just enjoy the comfort of a soft bed and as I took out my hearing aids, my teeth in the bathroom in a cleaning solution I Β dropped the shorts that I had on. I slept with as I was born, naked and not limited when rolling over by articles that seem to hang and stop my every movements.
What should come to mind at that time, but total relaxation, and no thoughts of purpose in mind, but a realization that what I write should not be limited by my personal observations of what had came to me as while putting those words to page.
I have just received word from GateKeeper Publishing that my very first book is days away from being published and what how they intend to offer my book to the world. Humbled, happy are first in my mind, then comes frighten thoughts, what others will see of what I had written, will I be ashamed and sorry for sending this off? Why did I not just do as I have in the past? Write the books and just put them on a shelf high out of the way stored in a cloud and available as I would have them.
Having written eight books now, I make the mistake of possible ridicule, and foolish pride, in what I say, when it is just as well to be happy writing, without the shame, that could result from worldwide published proof of my ignorance.
I went back to the Father and Son I was writing about humbled and hungry for Insite as to why I should continue this story which it had become. No longer an article for my web site but a book for my shelve. I finished the first night in camp with father and son. I went to bed in my own bed as the story I told they went to bed.
If this story should become past on to others, what I felt was words of wisdom to the son, the next morning ,and if you should readΒ this story, you will be able to relate as to what was in my mind when the first morning Joe and David, father and son face the first day on the mountain, and my thoughts as a messenger of that story.
God gave me the graving, the hunger, and the location, to further my enjoyment of my life. What becomes of this, where it will go, what others may read, what others may think? I will leave that in Godβs hands, I must remember my place in this, I am only the messenger.
The Messenger,
Verl K.