These past few months has been a busy one for Jesse and I. Yes, I do refer to her a lot in conversations as just Jesse. Being on a first name basis happens when you've known someone for six years.

Yep, six years.

Six of the most life-shaping years I have had on this earth. Not just because of Jesse, but just plain growing up. Six years ago, I was almost 13, now I'm 19. A lot can happen then. And it has.

So, out of the many things I have learned these past years, this is one of them: Things that are of God last.

Grace, mercy, love, and callings, they just don't go away. My calling for this book never left. Even when I dropped the ball, God held it throughout the most challenging years of my life.

I don't have to tell you what being a teenager feels like. Its just weird.

This book has been on my heart for a long time, God has blessed me with this calling. I am extremely grateful for it. Please forgive me as I put some of reflections of these last six years in writing and trace Jesse's progress through them.

It all started one Saturday morning a little over six years ago. I was enjoying the summer before I started 7th grade. My dad, sister and I were going out for donuts as we usually did. I had written a few short stories by then, but nothing that fell even close to being good. So there I was sitting in the car, when all of a sudden I got an idea about a K-9 police officer that had been given a lofty position in the department because of the heroic work that she and her dog had done in the army. Her sergeant was all proud of her and stuff, it was set in modern times but had that "good-old-boy-1940s" feel to it. But anyway then Jesus snuck in the idea, what if she grew up in an abused home and then went into the army.

I remember sitting there in the grocery store with my donut, not knowing exactly what this whole story was about but having fallen completely in love with it.

This brings up a great point. This story idea had to have been from God because Jesse's childhood and my childhood are so different. I have never known such physical and emotional abuse as that. Everybody has their struggles sure, but praise God, they were never so intense.

I remember I went home and immediately began writing. "Again. Again the belt fell like a line of fire whose only pleasure was to make my back burn." Except for the extra "again" at the beginning that line has stayed the same this whole time.

The first draft took only two months to write. I finished it mid-August of that year. I remember finishing it in the car on the way to visit my Grandpa in the hospital.

My Grandfather's illness was one of the many things God would carry me and our book through.

The original draft was about 20 pages and sorely lacking in any kind of plot...that would come later!

But I was Junior High student, what did I know? I proudly typed it up and had it ready to share at Thanksgiving, which again was spent in the hospital with my Grandpa.

I remember being so nervous when I asked Dad to read it to everyone that I actually hid in the bathroom for a while. We got about half-way through that night. The reaction was positive for the most apart. Although Grandma did entertain the notion for a while that my daddy was abusive. No he is not! My father is the spitin' image of Mr. Peterson....except he is not a carpenter.

As for the plot? Still lacking, sorely lacking.

But God must have seen something in it because He kept the desire in me, even after the death of my Grandpa. That was incredibly hard on me. He and I had been very, very close. To this day I regret that I am unable to share things with him anymore. Can't ask him for help with my science homework, can't show him pictures of my missions trip to Kenya, can't show him my book. Jesus was extremely faithful to me during those hard times after his death. He never let me go, even though I often wanted to let go of Him. God is awesome like that! I serve a very good God!

Even through my grieving God kept Jesse safe for me. About a year after I had finished the first draft I got an opportunity at some real feedback! Family will only get you so far. You need someone who doesn't live with you and will not be in the vicinity of oncoming wrath when you tell them that things have indeed gotten very ugly. And they were.

At the time my Mom worked part-time at a bank. The owner of a small publishing business did his banking at her company. I guess I had a proud Mama 'cause I got brought up in their conversation. This man must have the grace and patience of God because he offered to read my book! My beautiful plot-less book!

I'll admit, I thought it took FOREVER for him to read it. (Course I suppose you can only stomach so much of must at one sitting) I was getting pretty frustrated. However, the wait was well worth it! He sent me a beautiful e-mail. He said commented on things like my descriptions, but he said one thing I will never forget. "Writing is rewriting. You write then you rewrite and rewrite until you finally get it right." I was pretty inspired after that!  So I guess that's part one of the story!  More to come!  Psalm 131