someday…. when I grow up I’ll never get married or have kids and I will travel all over and do things and meet people and write great stories – yea, I’m going to be a writer…

someday… when my sons are grown I’ll have time to write about the places we’ve lived and people we’ve met and the things we did – yes, I’ll have lots of time to write then…

someday… when this suffocating war is over and my boys are safe home I’ll be able to breath – I’ll be creative again – yes, I’ll have lots of time to write then…

someday… when he and I retire we’ll travel all over and meet people and do things and I’ll write it all down – yes, I’ll have lots of time to write then…

someday…

…you tricked me – you are a fake – while I waited for you ….

… I stood in the shadow, watched the party, and waited for my turn.

I filled my role, did my job, loved my people, followed Jesus… and wondered – – when do I get to be a writer?

And really, truly.. all I had to do was decide.

I AM A WRITER.

I write my story today.

Because “someday” isn’t real.

I’ve written this post as an entry to Jeff Goins “You are a Writer” competition.  Check out his link… especially if you are a writer.