Jogging down the back roads behind my house with hay bales dotting the horizon, I felt the Lord ask me to write my story. Actually, I had already written it in the pages of my journal, but He was saying it’s time to compile it – all of it.
The words of this story frequently came like labor pains at midnight, hard and fast and impossible to sleep through.
Get up! The Lord would nudge me. Write it down!
I would fight against the prompting for two hours usually, and then finally accept the fact that words being birthed don’t care what time it is.
As I ran that summer morning, I couldn’t out run the voice of the Lord telling me that this story would one day be a published book.