Mrs. Connie Kerbs
It is not that I found writing. For some-how, some-why, it fixed on me. It’s not even that I am a writer, per say. I am just a vessel in which a very small but powerful portion of an endless and vast stream, a fountain of renewable vigor - pours a bit of itself in me for a time. Indeed, until its sparkling energy flows out to its next destined purpose.
On being blessed with early and tender spiritual experiences: these, to my astonishment, would be as a conduit between myself and that miraculous fountain which has utterly saved me in every sense, time and again. Indeed, this astounding source of amazing grace ever rescues, revives, and rejuvenates still my soul.
On having a grandmother who early on nudged me to peruse her upstairs library: it was here I met first the Caldecott and Newbery classics, enduring poets, composers, story-telling icons, and eventually countless literary giants. Indeed, I was irrevocably impressed.
On having an antique, script, manual type-writer tossed my way: it was a defining opportunity in my tender years. It most certainly hardwired my vocational tendencies. More importantly, it indeed, charmed and nurtured my budding muse.
On being married to my childhood sweetheart and best friend for 30(plus) years: I am in awe of our incredible journey together. We have been honed and humbled even as we’ve been bathed in bliss. I am so grateful to have him as my faithful, capable - and especially good-humored companion - through it all. My admiration and love for him are indescribable. Indeed, words fail to convey such a divine devotion.
On being adoptive-foster parents for a score and then some: this means bevies of babies and bus-loads of youth of all ages and stages have graced our home, profoundly altering us. With 13 adopted, and three procured the old-fashioned way, indeed, I love and appreciate beyond expression, being polished and possessed all this time by these precious people.
On all the above and more, my family, dear friends, Walk of Faith, and my writing journey: these have indeed, all made for a savory life and the ultimate, beautiful mess. It is to my utter amazement and delight that such a crazy-wonderful menagerie has somehow homesteaded me!
On writing: Is there anything so gratifying as life’s remarkable, oft-unexpected, full circles? What is more stimulating than the aftershocks of ever growing, changing, and becoming? Tremors that have long-time rumbled inside, build up a force to be reckoned with. These transform their point of origin, but more importantly, they surge into a wave of positive energy that ripples out into the world spurring others, and influencing a broader landscape.
Indeed, this is what it means to have the art of writing fix on you.