WARNING: The following entry is not for the squeamish or bunny lovers!
I finished my proposal for my book! Alleluia!
The grueling experience reminded me of cramming for exams and staying up late at Denny’s writing papers in college. But the rewards today outweigh those long ago A’s and B’s and a couple of C’s at Texas Tech University. Through the process of researching and writing a proposal for my nonfiction book, I connected thoroughly with what I want readers to receive from my words. Make sense? See, the proposal tells the editor not only the basis of your book, but why anyone would want to read it. I researched other memoirs, especially spiritual memoirs and especially best selling spiritual memoirs. The insecurities attacked me from every website. How could I compete? I am the “Horton Hears a Who” speck in a world of published authors and famous people who write memoirs.
But ah…remember Horton’s words? “A person is a person no matter how small.”
I still count. The God-given lessons offered to me are worth writing. I cannot control the outcome. Trying only makes me want to nap or eat chocolate. But somewhere within the process of typing Helpful Benefits my Book will Contain and Who my Target Audience Is I discovered that I am right where God wants me.
I am off the leash! I am running wild with God’s purposes for me and it is exhilarating and painful and life-giving and funny!
Scooby, our Puggle, is obsessed with bunnies the Colorado spring has invited into our condo complex. He howls and gets crazy when he senses them. We have a leash law here and so Scooby is not free to chase the bunnies. It is against the rules.
But we, the Iobst family, felt so bad for him that we decided to give him a stuffed bunny for Easter. Noah threw it into the middle of the living room yelling, “Get the bunny!”
Within minutes, I am not kidding, the bunny was no more. Only pieces of stuffing dotting our carpet. Scooby sat proud. His eyes told us, “I got the bunny.”
One day during my proposal marathon I needed a break and took Scooby for a walk. As usual, we saw a bunny.
Maybe it was the exhaustion I was feeling or the need to rebel against all authorities who have decided I need to write a proposal. I don’t know. But I found myself throwing the leash into the air and yelling, “Get the bunny!”
Off Scooby ran, beagle ears in the wind, pug nose sniffing his prey. I’ve never seen him more beautiful. Wild, free, purposefully chasing a dream! He flew out of my view; I followed the direction, not worried about losing him. I felt I had done the right thing and just knew he would come trotting back.
He did. No bunny in sight. I knew he wouldn’t catch the thing, but I knew he had to try.
Monday morning, Noah took Scooby on his morning walk. A few minutes later the door opened and Noah called from outside, “What do I do with the bunny?”
“What?” John and I went to the door and witnessed the unthinkable. In Scooby’s mouth, a bunny. A dead bunny.
Noah recalled for us the incident:
He and Scooby walked by a couple of bunnies and as usual Scooby wanted to go. Noah, thinking Scooby could never catch the bunny said, “Get the bunny, Scooby,” and ran with Scooby toward the bunnies, leash still in his hand. Leash still hooked to Scooby’s collar. Quick as lightning, Scooby clamped his jaw onto the little creature.
Now we looked at our pet dog.
He stood proud. “I really got the bunny!”
John pried open Scooby’s mouth, removed the bunny and took it to the dumpster. Noah received the instructions to never do that again, with or without the leash. I called the vet and since Scooby didn’t eat it, our puggle was fine.
But we, the Iobst family, all felt pride and shared a great laugh. Scooby got the bunny!
I sit here pecking away and I dream of getting my own bunny someday, in the form of a published book written by me. I don’t know if I will get it, but I have to try.
You see, I am off the leash and loving it. John feels this way on his motorcycle, winding up Rocky Mountain highways. I think Noah senses this feeling each time he is chasing a soccer ball or imagining wars in which he is the hero.
What about you?
Here’s to you, my friend. I hope you find time this week to get off the leash and chase your bunny. Maybe you’ll catch him.
Trying is abundant freedom!