“Then the Lord reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me, ‘I have put my words in your mouth.” – Jeremiah 1:9 (NIV)
My life has followed a rather strange path. Before I got sick and could not graduate, I had planned on being an engineer or doctor. I wanted to go to CMU or JHU. My entire identity had revolved around my own intelligence and a massive superiority complex.
When I got sick though, I realized that intelligence means nothing. I suppose that is overstating things a bit. Intelligence is still important to me, but out of an inherent value rather than to lord it over others.
Not only had I realized that, but I also realized that I didn’t want to do anything in those fields. Their purpose had only been as nominal, trophy careers. That is once again overstating things, but I can not convey all the complexities of the young mind without a serious diversion.
It was not until I became a Christian (yes, despite my name I was not one) that I found my true calling in life. I had always loved to read. I had always loved writing. But while I was focused on myself and how everyone looked at me, I couldn’t see what I truly loved.
As a Christian, I became an intern for a youth pastor (a truly wonderful man). Here, I found opportunities to write and in doing so realized how obvious it was that this was what I wanted to do. I found the true power of writing through the words I read in the Bible. I found that I had a calling to write.
I then allowed my calling to stall as I sought to work at the church I attended. But that wasn’t my place. When I finally left, I threw myself headlong into school and chased after this writing life. It can be scary at times, but I know this is my purpose, my raison d’etre.