A Time to Write | Warning: Personal Post Ahead

If there’s anyone out there who has been checking the site for new material, forgive me! I’ve been traveling intermittently for work, studying for an exam, and sleeping on the floor in airports 😩. No, but really. Let me explain.

I accepted this travel work assignment in Florida, and I fly from home to the job site Sunday – Friday. This past Sunday, my flight heading to Florida was scheduled for 6 pm. Well, long story short, the flight was delayed, and I missed the connection to my final destination. After spending hours in line at the airport to rebook, I was given a hotel voucher to use for the night. When I finally arrived at the hotel, they were full. So, I took an Uber back to the airport to sort things out.

Now, I was under the impression that the airport did not close. But I’ll tell you from experience that the American Airlines ticket counter in MIA does. When I arrived back at the airport, it was around 2 am. There wasn’t a soul there to help me. My standby ticket for the next flight to Jacksonville was at 8:30 am (boarding at 8:00 am), so I called around to see if any nearby hotel had room for the night. Ten hotels later, no such luck. I would have had to travel from Miami to Fort Lauderdale and back before 7 am, and having lived in Miami before, I knew that was not a possibility – not if I actually wanted to get some sleep.

So I decided to thug it out at the airport – and by thug it out, I mean cry all night long on alternating phone calls with my dad and best friend. I mean, I’m a G but still. I was cold. I was hungry. I was alone. And I was SLEEPY! I didn’t know if I would actually be able to catch the 8 am flight because all I had was a standby ticket. And even if I were able to, I clearly wasn’t going to be at work at 10 am as scheduled. I couldn’t get any rest, so I decided to write. I kept asking myself, why is this happening to me? There was a lady in the rebooking line ahead of me earlier in the night, and she said, “I don’t know why the hell I’m getting this karma, but I am sorry!” I thought about it momentarily, like, am I receiving some bad karma? But being the angel I am 😬, I knew right away that could not be the case.

Just kidding, God. Just kidding. I promise I need no more humbling!

No, but seriously, I couldn’t stop thinking about the lesson in all of this madness. My dad kept telling me how good God is, and I’m just on the other end like, huh? Then my aunt called me from California, also attesting to the goodness of the Lord. Again, say what? Baby, I’m on the flo’ at MIA airport; how did God get in this? But that’s just the thing; He was in it the whole time. Because a day or so later, I’m beginning to understand why I had to be that low.

I live a comfortable life. It’s not extravagant, but it’s not poverty. I am comfortable. There’s always food, clothing, shelter, and brunch money. And that can start to feel secure. What doesn’t feel secure, however, is sleeping on the floor in an airport. I mean, I didn’t even sleep. I had to watch my things, watch myself, and watch everybody else. And in the aftermath of all of that, it’s occurred to me that I am but one wrong move from that being my life! In other words, sleeping on that floor is just too close to having no place to sleep at all! Is Iyanla on the floor at MIA? John Grisham? Terry McMillan? Gabrielle Bernstein? Malcolm Gladwell? God has given me the same gift as them – the gift of written word. Yet, I’m still on the floor!

I am aware that I’ve just begun to take my writing seriously – to see it as a way to create a livelihood and to pursue it professionally. But in the year that I’ve devoted to writing, I haven’t been as committed as I could. I haven’t worked at it like I know I can. I haven’t prioritized my gift! Instead, I have been focusing on all the things I haven’t had – like complete health, a new job in the medical field, romantic love, and a new place to live! To be fair, I was injured in a car accident in April, and that accident required me to have surgery in November, in addition to months of physical therapy. So, it’s not like I’ve been twiddling my thumbs for thirteen months. But I have been so distracted by everything working against me that I’ve lost focus on my dreams. That ends today!

I read something on Amazon that said John Grisham woke up every day before work (as an attorney) and wrote for 3 hours. He did this for three years before releasing A Time to Kill. It didn’t say he texted exes. It didn’t say he took naps. It didn’t say he felt good every day while doing this or whether or not he went to brunch on Sundays during this time. It said he wrote.

The floor was a reminder to reach for the ceiling. And my dad and aunt are exactly right; God is good.