An Authoress. Ever since I read that word on Ashley Townsend's blog about a month or so ago, I knew that that's what I wanted to be. I've always wanted to be a writer, an author. Creating stories has always been one of my favorite past times. To see my name, "Sarah Ball", on the front cover of a book, would be a dream come true.
I am passionate about many things. I've loved reading since I was a little girl, and I know I always will. A few years ago, I became addicted to long distance running--Cross Country and Track. Photography--I adore it. I absolutely love all of my friends, and my family is of course the number one thing in my life. Well...besides Jesus. He always was, is now, and always will be the number one priority in this short little life I call mine.
A blog could be easily written about all of these passions of mine. However, I decided to start one on writing, one of my greatest passions. I believe that writing can change the world, that words are powerful. Take the Bible, for example. Think of how many people's lives have been changed from just that one book. That one collection of words, that one story that we are all a part of in some way, shape, or form. The Bible is a beautiful love story. We are beautiful love stories in God's eyes.
This reminds me of a short little devotional I wrote a while back. I call it "The Master Author". Bear with me through last minute revising and editing. I'm pretty sure this is one of my late night works.
The Author sat at his large, oaken desk. For hours, or was it years? he had been sitting. His old eyes, wizened with age and experience, roamed over his small office space. It was simple, nothing very ornate or special about it. Except for the books. Each wall had a bookshelf that stretched from floor to ceiling, and each was full to bursting with books. Books that the Author himself had written. All of these books had their own name, a title all their own. The words filling these books told one story; a story full of indescribable detail. This one tale was told thorough millions of thick, leather bound books. It was all handwritten, pages yellowed from countless re-readings. The Author smiled, his old lips parting in a youthful smile, and eyes twinkling with the excitement of adding onto this never-ending story. The protagonist in this story was totally new and totally fresh, a brand new idea. The Author knew this character better than it knew itself, as he did all of his characters.
The new, unopened book opened with the crackle of new glue as the beautiful smell of a new book filled the Author's nose. He smiled again. "I'll make her like me."
The Quill, dipped in fresh ink, brushed the page in magnificent strokes. "She'll be like me. She'll write, create things from the raw corners of her mind. They'll be recorded on paper. She will delight in words, in making people laugh and cry, all with words. she'll use the talent I have given her wisely, and she'll use it for me."
The Author wrote all night, by the light of a candle. The smoke hung in the room, and the scratch of the quill was the only thing heard. Until finally, finally, at the crack of dawn, the author wrote the last words, "She came up to be with me, leaving people changed by her presence." With a wonderfully satisfied sigh, the author set the book on the shelf. "And, oh, I love her." he said happily, a grin etched across his face. Ever so slowly, the Author sat back down at his old, oak desk. His soft, ink-stained, calloused hands shaking slightly, he reached for another unopened, completely new book. A new quill was taken out from a drawer, and new ink replaced the old. The Author began to write.
"He will be like me. He will draw, a talent used for me." A new day...a new story. "She will be like me. She will care for others more than herself, and she will give whatever asked of her." "He will sing, sing with a voice beautiful to everyone's ears." "She will run." "He will work." "She will doctor." "He will throw." "She will love." "He will show servitude."
And thus, He made us all.