Fifteen minutes before Sunday School started, it felt as though someone had punched the air out of my lungs. I hadn’t been prepared for the news I’d just been given. A friend had just told me that someone I knew had been found dead a day earlier. “No I hadn’t heard,” is what I think I mumbled. My thoughts were a jumbled concoction of sympathy for his wife and sadness that this man’s troubled life had ended. Suddenly. Alone.
Then shame and guilt encircled me. I should have done more. I should have reached out and done…something. Should I have called him regularly? Regret haunted me that day, growing somewhat less hateful in the last few days, but not completely lowering its voice. It’s still there as I write these words.
No, I’m not responsible for all of his decisions. But the fact remains: There were things I could have done. I won’t get the chance to do them now. I will always regret that sad reality.
Writer, friend, please read the rest of this post carefully. Don’t come to the end of your writer’s journey with unwritten stories in your soul…stories that you were going to write someday but never did. Maybe God has been working in your heart, telling you to write something…please do it. It could make a difference in someone’s life. Don’t let fear or fades shove your story to the side. Don’t let laziness or procrastination lull your story to sleep. Don’t let doubt or discouragement cause that story to remain forever on the back burner. Write on. Write now.
Because now is all you have.