…that writing a book is a brave thing to do. I’ve been realizing lately that whatever I put my characters through, I go through as well. All the “Big Sky” books are as honest as I can make them, and it can be painful to reveal so much about what I REALLY believe–about love, about honor, about people and animals and especially about God. Every book I’ve ever written has been the best one I was capable of writing at the time, but these current stories are real in ways that sometimes leave me feeling pretty raw at the end of a day. Furthermore, if I’m going to claim the attributes of the heros and heroines, then I must also claim those of the villains, because that’s the truth–we’re all a mixture of bad and good, strengths and shortcomings, faith and fear. The way we turn out, it seems to me, is a matter of which attitude we choose in any given moment. We can flip off the guy who cut us off in traffic, or we can realize that, like the rest of us, he’s going through something difficult and gets distracted.
Maybe it’s because I’m a writer that I tend to think in allegories, and those spring tulips and daffodils I’ve mentioned have been much on my mind recently. Right now, those bulbs are pretty simple things, lying there under the dirt, apparently doing nothing at all. Of course they ARE doing something–they contain the whole of God’s love and power and unstoppable creativity, and they are going through all the mystifyingly wonderful processes that will cause them to burst out of the dirt to greet the sunlight of early spring, gloriously garbed in bright yellows and pinks, reds and whites.
Could it be that that seemingly unanswered prayer nestled deep in the silence of our hearts, seeming to do nothing, is actually like a flower bulb, undergoing unseen changes, night and day, week after week and month after month? In the beginning, bulbs only need planting and an initial watering, maybe some fertilizer, but not much more. Far as we can tell, they’re just buried, even forgotten. Mostly, it’s about waiting and trusting that when the snow starts to subside, the daffodils and crocuses will pop up, isn’t it? Could be your dreams will do that, too, in their season, if you keep believing and imagine them coming true as vividly as you can, the way I visualize my mulched and sleeping flowerbeds burgeoning with color and fragrance when the winter is over.
It seems that way to me.
As for the new question: What is YOUR hidden dream-bulb, and can you imagine it blooming?