A Diamond in Rough Shape

A Diamond in Rough Shape

The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field. Matt.13:44   

My treasure is Jill. While I didn’t sell all I have to claim her, I did devote 95% of all my writing for the last six years to her.

As an author, I relate to the farmer in the passage above. My character, Jill, a lackluster stone found in the field revealed a cloudy scarred surface. A throw away rock I concluded as I wiped the soil from this oddly shaped find. Unexpected, like a playful wink, a brilliant flash of light caught my attention. I was hooked. I had to find it again and after much searching I did. For an instant I saw her joy reflected through a tear. I read an appeal for me to unlock happiness from her hazy prison.

Initial impressions pointed to a capable intelligent woman, one who loved her children deeply. Surprising acts of kindness made her even more endearing. In contrast, her determination and control spawned an image of a hard person. Trapped within a fog of suspicion she became aloof. If it weren’t for a tragedy that cracked her self-esteem, she’d have remained distant.

A continual close accepting observation earned permission to view tender shaping moments from her past. Elements of male abuse had planted seeds of mistrust and a commitment to avoid being subordinate. Simmering beneath her surface was a state of readiness to fight or flee, a legacy of her home life.

Later, left with only the core memory of Jill’s being––she chose to run away––I felt her hopelessness stemming from some heartbreak. Like a non-swimmer alone holding a life preserver, I watched the tide carry my friend farther and farther out to sea, out to drown.

Before I started to write Baggage burdens. I knew Jill very well. I also knew I wasn’t the means by which she could be assisted. But still I had to try. Unfortunately Jill had to hit rock bottom like an alcohol addict, before she’d consider another’s approach to her challenges. I was forced to accept that she was a free spirit.

Through writing about Jill, I’ve come to highly appreciate her like the hidden treasure found in the field. As a result for most of the novel I feel like a parent watching my daughter move away from home. I can only hope that everything will work out. I must find peace in trusting that the Lord will take care of her like Josey, Jill’s grandmother, did in this novel.

"Before I wrote this novel, I came to know Joseph, Jill’s husband . . .” Next week see how he tugged at my heart too.