My name is Rebecca Ann. I'll be the first to tell you that I don't have anything put together. I have no real formulated plan, and the plans that I do have, I have no idea how to carry out with any sensebility. When I say plans though, I don't mean my plans, I mean plans given to me by a higher authority. I don't dissagree that they're wrong in any way, shape, or form. I just believe that they're plans that are a little bigger than I am.

I love writing. Well, no. I take that back. I like writing, I think at times I have a knack for it. More than writing though, I love telling stories, formulating stories, instigating things that become .stories. I'm not the greatest story "teller," however I see stories everywhere, I dream them, I breathe them, I drink them, I am one. I even have my own page in the Book of Life. It's a pretty nice place to be established.

So what is the plan? Well, the shell of it is to get the stories out: To write them, to sing them, to paint them, to draw them, to act them, to live them. There are so many of them in this body that have yet to be solidified that it would be unfair to shirk from what I believe is my purpose to give them that chemical change. The small but solid formed plan is to start with one.

I've been in a ministry for the last six years of my life that had me pulling so far away from what my ultimate purpose is. I mean, it is a good ministry, and I believe it is a ministry that I will continue to be a part of, possibly until the day I die. It's time to take the inititive to step into the right skin though. So for the next six months, I'm going to start with the first story.

One story in six months? Am I crazy? Part of me believes so...the other part believes that higher authority is a lot better at making chemical changes than I am. He's given me what I believe is a gift, and if I sit on that, I'm just gonna smell like a lot of gas, (I apolgize for taking the analogy too far.) and nobody wants that.

So what is the beginning? Tonight I bought a desk. I bought paper and pens and white-out, and a calander. I bought a desk organizer and a sense of wide-eyed accomplishment. It's been a long time since I've gone this far for anything. Everything since the last time I put a pen to paper with any kind of sensebility has been a lot of dust in the wind.

If I believed in praying to Mary, this is where I would start...