When I was younger it meant fantasy, and fiction that for some reason so many people held in high esteem

As an adult it became the unexpected means by which to chase after a dream

Then as it's darker side made it self known

I found that to my Lord and savior it was time to come home

The unseen realms where dreams are made

The mathematically and scientifically seemingly impossible becomes the reality where the root of all things are found when one does wade

Without the spirit running deep

every fruit tree would wither and weep

For in the spirit is our start and end

and nothing can change that no matter what we try to bend

There's a man in my life who did some things that I should call unforgivable. Yet according to everyone I know I am supposed to bless him. But for the way this happened it's very difficult to do that without blessing something that will most likely used to do evil to me over again.

Finally I said God what can I bless that he can't possibly use that way against me?

So I blessed him, first his skills with the videos he make for the church. Perhaps I shouldn't have, I'm being to kind to him for what he's done.

Then I blessed his health because sickness clearly won't stop him doing this evil, so why not...I'm obligated by God to bless him.

Then the other person involved who prompted his evil...Now she's the easiest of all. In Jesus name I pray that God bless her with a lovely trip far away from everything and everyone she knows (including him) one she will enjoy so much she will never come back.

I refuse to bless his evil, or what I know will be used for evil against me, but never the less in Jesus name I bless those two evil doers as written here.

"Vengence is mine" said God.

Meanwhile this human being and that one couldn't see him and humanity doesn't always do the greatest job of listening to the omnipetint being in the room.

Let the punishment fit the crime, Eye for eye. It was thought to be justice until humanity somehow mixed up justice and revenge. Can we please remember that's only one eye for each one eye? Of course leave the humans to it and they start forgetting that ratio. No wonder so many people were going blind.

Over the years I have learned a lot from my critics.

Speffically I have learned a lot of the wrong lessons.

I learned lessons like not to value myself as a human being for something that only God could have prevented or fixed.

I learned lessons like not to love myself the way God does and that I should hate myself the way the devil does.

It took a lot and several miracles of time to unlearn those lessons and the end result is that while I handle critisim better than I used to one of the lessons I will probably never unlearn is to be tough on my critics.

When I started my kids book series the first version of my story was very direct and brutal. I was touching on several political issues all at once and when you are passionate about stuff like that and you are a very direct person it shows in your writing. The first version was definitely not something I would recommend reading to the 5 year old or so kids that would compose my readership.

There's only one way I can write and do it well, so from the excesses of my heart flowed the words onto the keyboard. However before could even start to illustrate it let alone publish it there was some definite tweaking needed.

It took a few rounds of reworking to make it something that people would read to kids. After pouring my heart out it was like cleaning blood off the page. However eventually I did manage to make it kid friendly without having to compromise my message.

In blog posts I have found that same thing to be true. Starting raw pouring out my heart, then tweaking my exact wording has been increasingly useful, however nothing in the way of revision as drastic as the kids books.

I look up, I see the light of the burning ball of gas that has traveled years, decades, centuries, millennia to get here. The warmth from a thermonuclear reaction that might have heated another world before so long before that beautiful light traveled through the cold and dark depths of space to be seen from our own. A thing of beauty, wonder, perfect as a subject for an artist, a fascination for a scientist, and a source of amazement for anyone in between.

1. When did you begin to write?

I suppose that depends on your definition of the question. I started writing in the sense of physically writing in first grade, about a year late. Unless you count math equations...my hands were never really up to it. As I got older I learned to type and that's when I learned that my dream to write a kids book was less unrealistic than I thought. I started journaling, blogging, and eventually did write and illustrate my first book.

2. What does writing give back to you? What is your ultimate writing goal?

I never thought about what writing gave back to me, but I know I felt a physical release when I wrote a blog article on the way the system was set up to force people without means to sin. Physically getting the words out of me and putting them where they could be seen felt so needed. What writing gives me actually varies by project, as a kid it was mostly hand cramps.

As for my ultimate goal as a writer, aside from it being one of many components of making a living, blogging getting to the point where I can maintain 2 or more blogs easily, finishing my kids book series, and while I don't know if a novel is in my future I can say that I feel like I didn't choose writing goals the writing goals pick me. So I don't know what goals will pick me down the road.