It’s been almost two weeks since I returned from the Writing for the Ages workshop at Glen Eyrie Castle in Colorado Springs. I’m just now beginning to process the week, thanks to a hyper-busy day-job at a company that changed ownership the day after I returned to the office. I knew that change was coming, and the timing of this trip couldn’t have stunk worse if it tripped over a skunk. I almost pulled out of this workshop, but something told me I needed to be there. That something was right. Writing for the Ages was the best four days of my writing life. Ever.
This was my first trip to Glen Eyrie, but it won’t be my last. It’s an amazing place. The staff—all the way from the bottom to the top—were wonderful, friendly, helpful people who approached the work with servant’s hearts. They said they prayed for us by name before we arrived, all through our stay, and would continue to pray for us after we left. I believe them. They did a masterful job of creating an atmosphere where we could relax, learn, and reconnect with our calling as children’s writers.
God spoke to my soul through so many different mouths that week, seemingly random but so superbly coordinated it had to be God putting the right words in the right mouths at just the right time to reinforce his call, encourage me on my journey, and speak clearly about His purpose and plan for me as a writer and as a child of God.
On the last day of Writing for the Ages, my friend and unofficial mentor Nancy Rue looked me in the eye and asked if I’d gotten what I needed from the event. I said yes, but I found it a little difficult explain what God had whispered into my heart that week. Nancy shared a few precious words of encouragement with me that were like the cherry on top of the affirmation sundae God served me over the course if those four wonderful days at Glen Eyrie.
It was a God thing. It had to be. In the face of so much encouragement, my natural self would have puffed up like the Hindenburg. Instead, I experienced a profound and surprising sense of humility.
I left Glen Eyrie with God’s thumbprint on my head, my heart and my feet—humbled, blessed, and thoroughly aware that any success I experience writing for children has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the God who called me. And He did call me.