Right or wrong, and for what ever reason, I grew up to believing that my words, did not or would not matter to the world or another. My surroundings, my mind over time had convinced my belief system into thinking, why speak, why give an opinion, why bother to think how I could change the world? By accidental default I call it, I was introduced to the fitness world and too the sport of Bodybuilding of all things. Not a shy persons career choice that’s for sure. But, I learned very quickly, that I could safely let my body do all the communicating. Muscles were safe to hide behind. While mega successful, my career in the sport was short lived. The sport itself had taught me more than any phd could ever teach. And fortunately I decided to move on at the top.

One day a few years later, I found myself journalling my story of the shy guy turned magazine cover model. It was more therapy of words to paper than a book, I thought at the time. As I wrote I started believing, hey, this story could be relatable. Others may find some comparisons and hope in it. While the story was there, so where the disbeliefs. This time it was, no one will read my book, I cannot spell very well, and some of the dirt could and would be embarrassing to acknowledge in such a raw public way. Yet, I continued to write. And as any good story goes, it took on a life of its own. A title of its own in, “Changing from the Inside Out! In a zone, flow or what ever you want to call it, the pen put word to paper hour after hour, day after day and year after year.

Then everything changed. A few books into my new found career, I received an email from a so called fan in Australia that read, I paraphrase, “Thank you for sharing your story when my son needed to hear it the most.” It was then and there I realized, while the stories were about me, the purposes for writing then were about others. It was NOT my job to worry about wordage, packaging, opinions of others. It was my sole purpose to write the words as seeds to a garden. And allow GOD to nurture them when and where they would go. It was my job to write as though a life depended on it. Because, whether they did or didn’t, that was not my concern. That life looking back may just have been my own. Writing in some ways made my life meaningful, full fulling beyond description.

You’re smoking dope from here in Colorado, I would have told you, if you prophetically told me about today some years ago. No way, I would have believed you. No way I would have believed in my abilities, my GOD given ones. But GOD did, way before I did. I have learned that active discipleship is not complicated. Its about sharing a simple story, that others can and will relate to. Its about getting out of your own way. Its about learning that GOD has a plan for your life all of our lives. And its in the form of a simple story. And IF you are willing to share it, you will plant seeds and move peoples souls more than you can imagine. So when the world tells you, no, your words don’t matter, you cannot write, no one will listen, you tell your story and watch what the world says then.

The Messenger