Wednesday, August 05, 2009

It Shall Be Done

It's quiet.

Peaceful.

There's a tranquil gentleness that cloaks the essence of my home right now. It's a little after midnight. The bewitching hour. My husband and children are fast asleep; quite a contrast to the chaos and frenzy that is the typical evening mode of operation in the Parks' residence.

I should be in bed, preparing myself for another busy day. However, I feel almost compelled to write; to release my energy and words to the universe. It's almost like I have no control over the situation at hand. There is an almost urgent need for me to express myself, not tomorrow, but right now. Maybe my words will speak to someone else who is searching for a solution . . .searching for guidance.

In the stillness of simply listening, that's always when I get the answers. The answers, the quiet reassurance that I have not been forsaken nor forgotten. Most of the time, in the hectic lifestyle I lead, I forget or don't have the luxury to sit back, put my feet up, be still and just listen. . . listen to that inner voice that speaks only the truth that soothes and touches my spirit.

Even though I don't like to reveal my frailties, I admit, some of the time, many times, I'm afraid. Afraid of failure. Afraid of not reaching my goals, my dreams. Afraid that life is moving too fast. Afraid I'm not going to reach the greatness that is within me, in all of us. Terrified, I become paralyzed with fear.

To those of you who have followed my blogs, you've read my tales and thoughts about the publishing industry and life in general. Good or bad, I usually put it out there. My view of the world. Most of you have shared my ups and my downs, my triumphs and my defeats. I've revealed my ultimate goal. . . to become a NY Times bestselling author, to touch lives and make a difference. It is grand and lofty, but certainly not unachievable. All things are possible to those who believe.

I believe I have a gift of uplifting others, but a lot of times I fall short in doing so for myself. It's like I'm immune to my own inspirational words at times. I've been published by three major NY publishing houses, my alma mater, University of West Georgia, uses my story and photo in their orientation brochure, in a month I'm going to participate in a 4-day event as a featured author along with other A-list authors I have admired from afar before I even had a writing career, and tonight a young man came to me for advice and mentioned how much he admired me (that made my night). Even with a highly anticipated book dropping the first of the year and an impressive literary resume. . . still I have my moments of doubt. Fear sets in.

Tonight, in a moment of stillness, a peacefulness enveloped me and a great calmness settled upon and embraced me. . . because suddenly without a shadow of a doubt, I knew that everything would be okay. Don't ask me how I knew, I just did. It's as if I heard an angelic voice lovingly whisper, "Electa, God, didn't bring you this far to forsake you. This is your season and his will shall be done. Be patient."

I've handed it over, it's out of my hands. He knows my heart. . . and my pure aspirations.

IT SHALL BE DONE.

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