My days are full.

I homeschool my younger two kiddos while trying to keep up with the school schedule for my high school kiddos. Afternoons are filled with sports, often four kids in four different activities. We live on a small farm with a horse, twelve sheep, a pig, two steers, two dogs, three cats and a guinea pig. This time of year the lawn always needs mowed and the lawn mower always needs fixed. The house…well, we don’t have a housekeeper and it shows. I could go on, but I believe you understand.

I’m swamped.

Is it even possible for a busy mom to find success in publishing?

Don’t count me out. Writing isn’t my hobby.

Most of us have a passion, something that’s part of who we are. Honestly, I believe that we all do, but my husband insists I’m mistaken. If you’re a runner (beyond my understanding), you run. If you’re a hunter, you hunt. If you’re an artist, you find time to create.

I AM a writer.

During seasons of our lives, such as when our kiddos are small, these passions may have to be modified. But modified doesn’t equal removed. Yes, sleep is important, but so is not losing who we are, that unique spark that God gave us.

Each day there are sacrifices I make to write. I work very hard to be sure the sacrifices are my own and not my children or my husband’s. That’s not always possible. When I leave town for a conference, they must take over. It’s a gift they give to me.

I’m not involved with a lot of church activities. A lunch with a friend is a very rare treat. When my kids are off having their own lives, I strap my fingers to the keyboard rather than take a nap or watch a film.

There are crumbs on my counter, no towels in the upstairs bathroom, the flowers in the vase are dead and no, that’s not a blanket over the television, that’s dust.

And I’m happy.