The final chapter of my time at Lee University was soon approaching. I had gotten a job as a Transfer Student Leader with the Admissions Program and was required to return to school early, for training roughly two weeks before anyone else would arrive. The training sessions were in the morning and only lasted for a few hours each day. This left me with plenty of time to myself, and since none of my roommates had arrived yet, in fact hardly anyone was on campus that early, I had to find things to do to keep me company. A person can only watch so much TV, of course. Birthed from the realm of boredom came my idea to write.
Sitting to my laptop late one afternoon, I remembered a dream I had earlier in the summer: It was about a missionary couple’s daughter who had gone to Africa with her parents. Though I recalled very little about the actual dream, it had seemed like such a fun story to write. Now, mind you, it was never my intention to write a book. In fact, my only desire was to jot down my ponderings about the unfolding day dream that was now coursing through my mind; and since I was pretty articulate with a keyboard, it seemed easier to do so on my computer rather than on paper as I had done with other short stories in the past.
From there, the story came pouring out of me. In a little over a weekend, I had ten thousand words. Yeah, ten thousand (which is a lot when all you’ve ever written are essays and research papers)! I couldn’t believe that I had written that much, and in so short a time. I think about it now and know that it was a God thing, for sure. He was the one who inspired me with the dream, and who gifted me with the creativity to flesh out that dream. There was no way I did this alone as I had never written anything like that before.
Staring at my computer screen, and seeing the word count at the bottom, I realized I had a decision to make. My training was now coming to a close, and school was soon to be back in session. It was my senior year in the educational program. I was signed up for a full course load that included internships at local schools, studying for my licensure tests, and all those things that came with trying to finish a bachelor’s degree.
I soon got swept up into the happenings of my college career but it seemed like any time I had a chunk of free space, I was at that computer writing. Eventually, the decision was made for me; I couldn’t seem to keep myself away from the exciting journey of Dahlia and Aleixo — I was writing a book.
Over the next nine months, amidst all the craziness of my sister’s wedding, finishing my degree, graduating college, preparing to move back home, and trying to plan my next steps…my first book was formed. Now it just needed a title, and I knew just what to call it: Reclaimed. It was actually the theme in our dorm that year; deriving from the book of Philemon in the New Testament, the word reclaimed tells the story of a man who was once a slave but had been bought back by the Lord. A man who was redeemed and given great value through the sacrificial grace of Jesus Christ. This is what I wanted people to know and understand. This was the lesson that Dahlia had learned.
Dahlia was so much more than the protagonist of my first novel, she was my “dream”. In her, was the culmination of my young heart’s hopes: to become a missionary, to live a life of faith, to play a part in a beautiful love story, and to discover the world that is full of waiting adventures. But just like Dahlia did, I have learned that God has better plans for my life than the ones I set for myself. In the same way that I never intended to become a writer, I am finding that around every turn of the New Year, every flip of the next chapter, God is waiting for me with something incredible. Something unexpected.
