Down the cobblestone path to my Little House, the stones cool on my feet, I step into my very own space. Instantly, the world outside is hushed and my senses are filled with the smell of books and paper and the sweet smell of my pine writing desk that Kevin build so lovingly for me. It is all mine this Little House. And it speaks to me today. This is what I hear: This is your destiny to be a writer; you were born for it; this is your passion and when you step away, when you do not write, your heart is empty and you are not on your path; you are not on purpose. I thought, yes, this is my “Why.” This is the reason I am sacrificing time now; this is why I am willing to work hard to build my freedom so that I can come here for more than one precious hour or two in the morning. This is worth all the frustration I will encounter. This is worth talking to people all day, every day to deliver a message that does not come from me – it is only delivered by me. God directed me here to offer others a chance at freedom. I asked him for a way and he directed me here less than a week later – and when I start thinking this is about me and what I want, and what I need I remember that.
I look out my little window into our backyard, my soft green ferns blowing in a cool breeze, and I see the rainforest and beyond that, the turquoise waters of a warm ocean. I know that is where I am going. And I know I will be there in the next 3 years. I smile and go to that place in myself when I will step into my writing studio three years hence, where I will come into my very own space and know I have no time restriction. Time slows and my fingers run across the keyboard unencumbered with a schedule – I write until I am empty of thoughts. I stack my papers on my desk, clean white sheets with nice black ink, and I walk on the beach, I swim in warm waters and watch Kevin swimming with long backstrokes, gliding along in the waves, free and happy to live in his element. And I smile in knowing that our belief and our love for others, my belief in myself, and our constant effort has brought us what we always knew we deserved – and not only us, but those special ones who believed with us, who stood by us in our battle for freedom.
I sit on our lanai in late afternoon, sipping a glass of pineapple juice, pouring over my pages in a final edit, and I am filled with a sense of joy and release and my entire body is warm and relaxed and complete.