Working on a story set in Eastern Oregon. It’s called, for the moment, Miner’s Jubilee–the working title. I’m thankful that God is gracious and merciful, that He lives me with everything in Him. I’m thankful that He has made me a writer, not to make ripples, but so that I will have my thirs quenched. Isn’t it sobering to us, we writers, that we can sit down and knock out out a page and when we’re done to feel like we’ve spent a whole weekend at a spa. Writing cleans you out. Gives you hope. Stretches you. For many of us who love storytelling, there’s no better work than to delve deep into a story and mix it up a bit, get in there and get sound, make some soup–something that helps us heal; nothing better than to write encouraging words. There’s nothing better than to write a story that glorifies Jesus Christ. I believe that the purpose of story is to reveal the character of Jesus. Since He is Life, the Word, through whom all things are made, every story that does good, that lauds courage and heart, love and sacrifices, bloody hope, is a story that is trying to get at the heart of Jesus–to find out who He really is. Every writer is writing not so much to discover themselves, but to find out how she has been discovered and uncovered by her Maker. Isn’t that cool? That presses me in, and so I have to get going.