The gorgeous grassy field stretched for miles. Golden rays of sunshine warmed my skin, the sky a vivid blue. I sat alone. Relaxed. Serene. A man suddenly appeared from behind a tree. He was balding and a little paunchy, wearing a chestnut-colored robe.
“I want you to get started,” he said sharply, without so much as a hello. “Get started writing a book on multiple sclerosis.”
I’d had MS for three years, but I was no expert. I was a music teacher–putting a book together never entered my mind. “No way,” I said. “I work full time.”
Read More: Miracle Words – Guideposts
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