How writing brought me closer to God.

Hey everyone! I promise this blog WON'T be used as a personal diary. I just have something on my mind, and think everyone who reads my blog would be interested in.

First of all, I'd like to say my love for 'God' (call God what you will, this isn't technical) is fairly new. I mean, I suppose you can ignore those everyday miracles. Those little things that stopped you from doing something, or that little push you needed to leap into something amazing. Or maybe you thought of something you wanted so bad, and suddenly there was a tiny window of opportunity that you needed. Maybe some hurt you carried on your shoulders subsided. Maybe you saw something from someone else' point of view.

These are some of the things that I have begun to notice, and begun to appreciate. I love the fact that there are some days when it seems so dark, and the next I understand how to navigate through the storm. I believe that's what God does for me. He gives me a chance.

I believe God gives many gifts to everyone. As weird as it sounds, I have a knack for empathy. It's actually quite bizarre. I can remember times when my mood has had an impact on the overall mood of the room. I can also remember being completely overwhelmed by what someone else was feeling. I can sense what people are feeling, what they are thinking, and what they want. It's something I've always had with me, but recently tried to hone in on. It's strange.

I think how I write is a result of this gift. My stories are often raw and overflowing with emotion. I don't want my writing to touch people, I want it to grip people. I want my gift of understanding emotion and passion and thoughts to be shared with everyone. I want you all to know how other people feel.

It's easy to get wrapped up in your own problems. It's easy to wallow. It's not hard to feel sorry for yourself. But feeling sorry for someone else is a completely and entirely different thing. It takes courage to open your heart up to them. It takes even greater courage to lend someone else courage.

God has given me the chance to let people know what I am feeling. I know how everyone in my life is feeling, but sometimes I feel so misunderstood. God has given me the gift of words to be able to do this.

Am I letting God take the credit for the work I put into writing? No.
Am I saying my writing is good because God is in my life? No.
I am simply admiring the fact that one day I wanted to write. I am admitting that, without warning, dreams of winning awards, being on Oprah and simply being a happy author have come to my mind.

I haven't always wanted to do this, but I believe God is to blame for planting this idea in my head. I haven't always enjoyed writing, nor have I always considered a future in it, but now I do. I think God knew what I needed to be happier, and he let me know what he thought was best for me; What is best for me.

That's all. I don't mean to sound like a crazy person. I just needed to get this off of my mind.

Weekly Me Post #1

Hello everyone! I'd like to thank everyone for reading my things, especially my friends! I really REALLY appreciate the support, and would love for you to tell me what you think.

Exams are coming up, and it's pretty nerve wracking. I know I'll do well, but I want to make my Mom and Dad proud. Math will be the toughest but I'll manage.

I've started making youtube videos and honestly, I am hilarious. I should be an actress.

Anyways, that's all I can think for, for now! Bye Bye!

Goodbye

I set my bag on the belt. I watched it slowly slide into a black curtain along with all the other luggage. I sighed quietly and swallowed loudly. I turned back to stand with my parents who had come to see me off.

My Mother was wearing a chunky cardigan I had bought her from what seemed like, an infinite amount of Christmas' ago. She wrung her wrists nervously in her hands and shot me a nervous smile. I knew there was happiness somewhere behind her grin, but her anxiety only amplified mine. I leaned into her shoulder, and smiled up at my Father who was standing faithfully behind her, gripping her shoulder lovingly.

My Father was a big, bulky man with an even bigger heart. His face was composed, but his lower lip was pursed tightly. He gave me single nod and gripped my shoulder too. I cuddled under his arm and glanced at my watch.

Without saying a word, we all knew it was time to go.

My family walked to me security and they soon realized this was the furthest they could take me. I glanced down at my one way ticket and huffed to myself.

"Well.."

No sooner than I had said this, my father engulfed my in a great big hug. I felt his cheek rest against the crown of my head, and soon after tears falling onto my hair. I couldn't help but cry myself. We embraced for what seemed like forever, and as we parted we both chuckled at the tennis ball sized tear stain on his shirt.

I turned to my Mother and we shared the same type of hug. I rested my chin on her shoulder and squeezed her just as hard as she was squeezing me. As we seperated, she slipped something small and warm into my hand. I opened it and was surprised to see the promise ring my father had given to her when they were younger.

I looked at her quizically, and she gently stroked my hair. She shook her head lovingly.

"Your father gave this to me when we were a little younger than your age. He promised me he would love me forever and well," she looked up at him. "So far, this little ring is just about as real of a promise as you can get."

She refocused on me, and took my fist in her two hands.

"I promise I'll love you forever, and keep you in my heart always. I promise you'll always be my little girl, so long as you promise me the same."

Swollen tears fell heavily down my Mothers face.

"Okay, sweetie? Promise me the same.. Promise me you'll always be my little girl."

With that, we embraced tightly and I began to sob silently. Not because I was afraid of leaving my family. I was leaving to be with a man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I also wasn't crying out of fear. In all honesty, I couldn't quite understand the love I was feeling for my parents, and that was the only way I knew how to express it.

I silently promised her. We all embraced one last final time, and I walked through security. I walked physically away from my family, and the life I had known before, but emotionally, we all had never been closer.

Kaitlyn Harmon

Goodbye

© 2011, Kaitlyn Harmon

kaitlynharmon@live.com

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This story contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

*clears throat*

Hello! This will only be my gazillionth attempt at blogging, but this time it has a purpose.

I'm Kaitlyn.

I'm a 17 year old Canadian who is crazy passionate about writing. I'd love nothing more than to be an author. I'm a home body and tea sounds lovely, thank you.