Several years ago, I had the opportunity to speak to Governor Northam's Advisory Commission on Opioids. To me, it was a big opportunity. Our office had been advocating for state funding for a position to lead the statewide efforts on training about the impacts of adverse childhood experiences - also known as my dream job.
All the "heavy hitters" were in this meeting. If I couldn't sell them on the importance of this work then, in my mind, I never would. I only had 15 minutes. Hardly enough time to tell the story I wanted to tell. But still, I felt like I knocked the story out of the park. That is, until talking to some of the "heavy hitters" afterwards. I vividly remember telling my boss later, they don't get. They never will... This week, I've been involved in an online training where I'm helping train people to present the information I presented to the commission that day. Yesterday, one of the trainees told a story that will live with me forever. She told us that several years ago she lost her brother in law to an opiate overdose. As a result, she found herself sitting in a meeting of Governor Northam's Advisory Commission on Opioids. You guessed it - the meeting I spoke at. She said when she heard me speak that day it changed her life. She said that day she came to better understand what had happened to her brother in law. She said from that moment on, she began dreaming of one day being able to present the information I shared that day. She said sitting in the training with us this week - three years later - she said it was a dream come true. I walked out of that meeting three years ago dejected. I was dejected because I was focused on my story and my ending. But you know what, God was fired up that day. He was dancing in heaven because I had written a story he was about to write into healing and a dream come true for someone else. How crazy is that - that the stories we toss in the trashcan like a meaningless draft, God's walking behind us pulling those crumpled pages out and smiling God-sized smiles while he goes about changing lives with them? Last night, I was sitting in my chair, eating a bowl of ice cream, reflecting on what that young lady had said about her dream come true. I was sitting there telling God thank you - thank you for writing stories I don't have the imagination to write. Thank you for making a best-seller out of the scribbling I too often throw away like it's not good enough. I was sitting there full of gratitude, that bowl of ice cream in my lap, when I got a text message from my boss. Kind of scary since she never reaches out to us at night. But she was letting me know that yesterday our state legislature had approved funding for that dream job I went to advocate for all those years ago. I had tears in my eyes as I sent her a message of thanks, and as I told her the story of my encounter with that young lady earlier in the day. My boss said she had goosebumps. I said, so do I... I had goosebumps because once again God was telling me - you gave up, but I never did. And I never will. I had goosebumps because on a day when I was feeling like I wasn't good enough, God found a way to say you're not feeling good enough because you're thinking about how good someone else THINKS you are, not how good I KNOW you are. I had goosebumps because at the end of the day, no matter how ugly this draft of our story of mine is, God is absolutely determined to write a best seller out of it. That is all I need to keep writing. That is all I need to know to go tackle this day. Keep writing your drafts. Keep dreaming. You have no bad drafts. You have no bad dreams. I promise you that.....
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Robert "Keith" CartwrightI am a friend of God, a dad, a runner who never wins, but is always searching for beauty in the race. Archives
May 2024
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