I just found it! “I’m okay to go,” uttered Jodie Foster repeatedly to mission control, before they finally launched her character, Dr. Ellie Arroway, deep into space to meet other intelligent life in the universe. So here it is. My launch into cyberspace! Unlike a majority of my generation, and unlike Dr. Arroway, I regard technological devices and forms of communication not as treasures or tools of choice, but only of necessity or, more accurately, inescapable. Over the past couple of decades, I have resigned myself to the inevitable, again and again. I owe a great debt to my techie friends enraptured by the latest electronic equipment, whose enthusiasm eventually rubs off on me, or whose pocketbooks provide me with access to it. I begin this blog after years of being told that every serious writer MUST have a blog, as does every word weaver who hopes to develop a wide audience. Perhaps these are not the best nor truest motivations. However, my passion for writing began with my 5-year-old hand, a pencil, some paper, and a brilliant kindergarten teacher. I expect that my undying and supreme satisfaction in expressing myself this way will quickly take over.
Writing has, in many ways, been my lifelong salvation. When my life as a powerless unschooler grew too confusing and unbearable, I was free to sort things out in my journals. When I got bored, I made up stories. When I was lonely, I wrote to dozens of international pen friends. Back then there was no one safe enough for me to talk to, so I turned to my writing for help. My identity as a writer first became established as a 6-year-old writing several multi-page sequels to a picture book I had read, and then again as a 9-year-old with fourth grade fame for the fruits of my story writing assignments. No matter how smooth nor how chaotic my life becomes, I always turn to writing. I imagine that if I had a spouse, my word vomit might land on him, which of course would make me feel better (him: not so much). Guarding where I aim my word vomit is a skill I’m practicing yet I remain somewhat uncoordinated. I am blessed with true friends who help me clean up any mess that lands on them, and who don’t choose to steer clear of me for fear of future upheavals.
My desire is for my writing to be much more than that, as I believe it can be and will be. My Father in heaven chose the written word as His means of divine revelation, letting us know Who He is and what He does. I want to be more like Him, making use of words to reveal truth, to offer comfort, to bring Him glory, to share a small portion of His beauty, to lead others to the abundant life He means for them to have (John chapter 10, verse 10). That same brilliant kindergarten teacher I mentioned also taught me some of my first stories, like the story of Paul and his missionary adventures.
Under Mrs. Dodakian’s guidance, my loves became known to me: Bible scholarship, crafting (with fabrics and paint and shiny foil and more), finding patterns, singing songs, and, of course, pronouncing and writing and memorizing words. She is the one who led me into a relationship with my Lord Jesus Christ, the only true means of salvation, the Word made flesh (John chapter 1, verse 14). He is THE Word! Every other word is made possible through Him. May all of my words ever be for Him!
My Kindergarten Blog, June 1981: “The Lord has helped me this year. I like to do things that please Jesus. I like to help my teacher. I have fun learning in school. The Bible stories help me to be a good Christian. I liked the story of Paul best. My teacher helps me in school.”