The girl who wrote first

I wasn’t expecting today to hit me like this.
Today was chaotic — I forgot to pick up my daughter’s meds, I fell, I’m juggling deadlines for my 9–5, feeling slightly off, promoting FOUND, planning, posting, building, strategizing the best way to give this book its best chance as we get closer to release.

Then a few minutes ago, I felt compelled to click the preorder link on Amazon… and my eyes rested on my book cover.
I’ve seen it before, but tonight I looked at it with two pairs of eyes — the kind of precise scrutiny that can make a thing fold or stand.

Would it pass the test of time through my eyes?

And then something extraordinary happened: I smiled.
Not pride. Not shock.
Creation. That quiet moment where you step back from the thing you made and whisper, “This is good.” Just like God whispered the same after creation.

FOUND didn’t fold — not under my critical eyes.

And then I thought of the younger me — the girl who wrote first.
The one who wrote in French.
The one who wrote her first book that was never published.
The one who stopped writing for years.
I haven’t thought about her in so long… and tonight, I could feel her joy.
She did it this time.

It’s not in the language she hoped — but our God is funny like that, isn’t He?
I know she’s somewhere in me pumping her fist in the air, LOL.

Me? I’m just happy I didn’t let her down.