Several years ago I had a dream. A door opened in this dream and I walked into a Library full of hand-carved, crystal bookcases. The room was filled with light that would touch the carved areas of the bookcases, sending the light into beams of brilliant rainbow colors around the room.
In the bookcases was any book you could think of reading. There are new books that had the fragrance of a new adventure, and whose binding crackled when you opened it.
There were old books whose leather covered became dust in your hand as you held them – dust, clinging to your hand, like an old man clinging to life.
As I entered this library there was, to my left, an old woman at the desk, processing the books by stamping them with a rubber stamp – one after another, book after book. There was no joy in her to see. She just processed her books, one after the other, all alone.
To my right, there was a door old, and tattered by the years, whose fair white paint was now grayed and peeling; and, whose brass doorknob, the pride of any door, was now tarnished, and showing signs of rust. The large window in the door was covered by beautiful antique lace curtains, which softened the view of the garden just beyond.
I somehow had the presence of mind to ask God, “Where are you? Where is Christ in this picture?”
Feeling drawn to the door, I took its rusty knob into my hand and pulled. With a little resistance from age, the door opened to an old garden.
This garden wild and overgrown is a place where plants do not know their boundaries, and no gardener has work lately.
There were benches for friends to sit and chat, now cracked, and covered with moss and ivy. A tire swing was hidden in the vines of wisteria, and a faint outline of what was once a path.
“What is this place?” I asked the Lord.
“This place, is where the great writers come to write and be inspired. This, my child, is life.
“Reading increases knowledge”, He continues, “but life fills that knowledge with wisdom; and wisdom is what my people are seeking.”
And, it is here, in the wild and overgrown – the covered up and the broken – are the greatest stories of redemption, of true love that renews an offender; and, of mercy that withholds punishment.
Here beyond the door, in the wild, overgrown and broken lays, waiting and hoping for someone to listen to the stories, to hear its secrets, to make them known.
Writers tend to be loners. We love our books, our quiet time to think and bring about a good story, or a good blog.
As writers we need to press ourselves out of our comfort zone and meet new people, hear their stories, and help them tell their stories to others.
On April 26th and 27th, 2013 (in)Real Life is having a webcast conference. What is that? It is a group of women getting together to talk and get to know other women from all over the world, right from the comfort of you own home – In Real Life (in)RL.
If you are in the Montgomery, Al area and are interested in a meet up, to attend this conference let me know. I’ll get the coffee and cupcakes ready for a time to get to know you better! Just leave a comment.
Latest posts by Diane W. Bailey (see all)
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