Last Summer I made a promise. I made a promise to a friend to write her story out. God had given me the story I needed to write out what I wanted to say to the world.
I lost communication with my friend last December. Never heard back from her.
Over the months, I've developed the story I had, and now it's become the story I've been writing for NaNoWriMo. Part of me is screaming to give up, because no one will understand it, or at least no one will find it interesting.
All last week I was worrying about my WC. But finally I've set my mind on just trying to get my story done.
Part of me wonders why I keep writing. Was thinking about my friend this morning. Read emails that were sent last Summer when I told her my idea. She was thrilled by the idea. But then again, it is pretty much her story.
I hate being that person who can't be counted on. Who will back out because they think no one is watching or caring. I hate being the person who will break a promise.
I don't know my friend anymore. I don't know what happened, for all I know she could have been lying to me all those months, and now is living like the devil. Or God could have brought her Home. Either way, I am sure she has long forgotten me. I don't know what happened.
All I know is that I pray for her every day. And I made a promise last year, and I will keep it at all costs.
I didn't want to write this story because I know that if I screw it up I'll probably give up writing. If I fail in what I want to say to the world, I might as well give up. I didn't want to write this story because I didn't think I was prepared to write it.
I need to cast all of those worries away. Not only will me writing this keep a promise, but it will finally shut the door to my past.
Sometimes I think that God gives each person something to say, or do in the world. Something specific, something that they can only do.
This is one of those things that I need to say to the world. And after I say it, the past to this story will be shut, and I never have to open it again.
I need to keep writing. This isn't about my Word Count any more.
This is about shutting a door. This is about keeping a promise.