I remember, as a little girl, sitting at my small metal folding table with the red-flowered top, writing short stories and taping them to my mother’s dining room wall. I was play-writing, or writing for play, whichever way… I just wanted to write.
Writing down thoughts has a way of clearing my mind. If it’s written down somewhere, it is now a printed word and not just a thought in my head.
My Grandpa Desh was a printer by trade. In the early 1930’s, with his own hands, he built his print shop, “The Gospel Messenger”. He ran those printing presses for 53 years.
I still remember the thundering noise of the press; the smell of ink and the thrill of watching the roller press over the paper as it left the ink behind.
Grandpa was an expert at setting the type. Pictures and images were placed to make a near-perfect image.
In my young eyes, nothing seemed to trip him up. He could smoothly move the paper into and out of the press with seemingly little effort.
Even today as I think about the message I share in this little part of my world, I sometimes trip up and don’t always set the type and place the images perfectly but I’ve learned perfection isn’t the goal. The goal is to simply share His message.
I want His message to move in and out of these printed words ~ His message typed through this simple messenger.
I am crazy busy with family in town and my daughter’s high school graduation tonight so I was not planning on writing today but then I saw the word prompt of Messenger and I couldn’t pass it up. That word has a special place in my heart because of my grandpa…and this being Father’s Day weekend, I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to honor him.
Happy Friday all!