In my last post I mentioned really connecting, even if for a short time, with my host in Indy. And as we talked about some of her decor, we talked about antiques and things passed down, and then she brought up the movie The Red Violin.
I haven't actually seen it, yet, but she said it's the story of how this violin traveled through war and love and hat and across continents and the journey that it took. And instantly, I realized that I had found something that I have been looking for a very long time.
There have been lots of times when I have had to share my autobiography in my ordination and educational processes. But I realized to really share that story - not because I had to, but as a means of helping other young women know that they weren't crazy as they tried to figure this whole ministry and calling thing, I would want to write a book. It would include my vocational journey, my relationship with B, my own self-discoveries - but I never could figure out where to start? How would I do it? I could just start writing - which is kind of where my blog has sprung out of, but it hasn't had the focus and direction I've wanted.
On this trip I also picked up and read (in one short 35 minute sitting) Becca Stevens, Funeral for a Stranger, and marveled at how she used the one experience to talk about so many different things... it was the vehicle for the rest of her tale.
And then I heard about The Red Violin. And I found it. I found what I couldn't figure out.
Brandon and I have this modern, down, cat-scratched, taped, misshapen, used and abused blue couch. We have dragged it everywhere. We got it for free from a business that was throwing it out and for 8+ years it has journeyed with us. And as I've made mistakes and gotten things right and said yes and said no and finally ended up as a minister in Iowa, I've dragged that couch along with me.
I have a title. I have an outline. Someday I may sit down and try to actually write the thing.