The Right to Write

So I’ve been sweating all day about what to write for this flipping book. Feeling like I’m going nowhere. Then I open my mail and I get a letter from Moolight, the child I sponsor in Nigeria. Then I get perspective. If I can’t write to her then I shouldn’t be writing anything. I hate to admit that I don’t write to Moolight half as much as I should. But I have no right to write a book that I want to be read by lots of people if I am not willing to write a letter that will be read by just one. The letter read by one is more vital and encouraging than the book read by many.

Sorry, Daddy, for not taking this seriously and not seeing you in this little girl you have entrusted to me. If I say that I love you then I must love her also. I must serve her also.

So I did write today, but I wrote to Moolight, and they are by far the most important words I have written in a long time. Now a little girl in Nigeria, after reading my letter, is going to know that there is a girl here in Ireland who loves her and there is a God in heaven who loves her. What could be more important than that?

That’s what gives me the right to write.


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