Shandra Lee. With Heart Wide Open. A Miracle In The Making.

The Answer You Didn’t Know You Needed

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” “I want to be for others what I needed ten years ago when I was at my lowest.”

“And then my eyes welled up with tears. It was the first time those words had come out of my mouth or even entered my mind, and yet there it was. Clear as day. The answer to why I went through everything I did. The answer to why I forced myself to keep crawling those baby steps forward and to fully live again. The answer to why I felt such a strong need to share my personal stories and my humor. Hope.” Kristina Kuzmic Kristina Kuzmic – YouTube

without HOPE ? Nothing.

Read on please. ..

You will really want to read this. Guaranteed. slwh 2015

By TRICIA LOTT WILFORD: A writer’s conference is a the craziest mixed bag of personalities. It’s like a store-bought bag of mixed Jelly Belly candies, but with a whole lot of heart. Jelly beans sugar candy snack in a jar isolated on white

Jelly beans sugar candy snack in a jar isolated on white

There are left-brained planners who plot out their days and their books and their careers. They know where they are in the process and what to do next. They are on time for everything, plan their conference electives on their phones, and they’ve maximized their appointments with agents and editors for pitches and critiques.

There are right-brained pantsers, named because we fly by the seat of our pants. We write in streams of …

ok the stage on Wednesday night, and he talked about the voices in his head. Not a cliched metaphor for the muse, but the actual voices that scream at him from within. Call it mental illness, schizophrenia, or tragic if you want. I call it heroic. He talked about his honest writing and storytelling about living inside the mind of a dozen voices. He said, “Sometimes, if you want to call someone out of darkness, you have to go in after them.”

He talked about the empty answers we Christians dole out to people. “‘Just give it to Jesus,’ they told me. Great. I’d love to. But what am I supposed to do when he gives it back? ‘He won’t do that,’ they told me. Really? That hasn’t been my experience. He gives it back almost every day.”

Nathan chose to write about the trends of cutting and self harm, the psychological phenomenon that causes people to make small cuts into their arms or legs in an effort to control their emotional pain. As he learned about it, wrote about it, and leaned into the culture, he encountered his own suicidal thoughts. He said, “There’s a lot going on in my head, but suicide has never been one of them. I asked God to please tell me why. Why do I have to feel this? Why do I have to carry all of this?”

You guys, if you had told me that the deepest nugget of wisdom and the gift worth the price of admission would have come through the dark fantasy author who claims Jack the Ripper is his personal hero, I may have withdrawn my registration from the event all together.

But I would have missed out on the answer I’ve been waiting for through the last four years.

He said, “God’s answer to me was, You have to live this because your readers do. They need words and answers, and I need for you to write what you know.”

Of all the questions I’ve asked since Robb died, they’ve all been a version of the question Nathan asked as well.

Why do I have to do this? Why did you let this happen to me? Why do I still carry this, struggle with this, cry over this, ache with a brokenness that spills into every crack of my heart?

And now I have an answer I can live with.

You have to live this because your readers do.
They need words and answers,
and I need for you to write what you know.”

I ‘m not looking for ‘readers’. If you’re here it’s because you’re supposed to be. To share or grasp a nugget. Thanks for dropping by.

Until next time,

Shandra May, 2015

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“Sunday morning my finger poised over the “I wish to delete my account” button- tears streaming, no lets be honest- it wasn’t a Hollywood scripted delicate cry at all. It was the  drippy nose, sobs into the pillows, room fan and TV volume turned high so no one hears,  roll of toilet paper within reach on the bed blankets (the kind of cry where a box of hotel Kleenex simply cannot keep up)-  yep that kind of cry…”

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