When This is Over

By Debra DuPree Williams @DDuPreeWilliams

Those four words are the ones I’ve heard over and over in the past few weeks. I’m sure you’ve heard them, too. Perhaps you’ve even spoken them. I have.

Just four little words. Not profound unto themselves, and yet they say so much. They point to an equally little word. Another with four letters, but one which holds so much promise.

Hope.

Without hope, there would be no utterance of when this is over. There would be only despair and grim acceptance that this is the way life will be from this point forward. There would be no more family gatherings, no more hugs. No more dinner with friends. No more play-dates for our kids. No more life as we knew it.

Calling in the Big Guns

By Debra DuPree Williams @DDuPreeWilliams

I’ve been at this writing business for quite a few years now. Decades, really if you go way back to when I wrote my first novel in seventh grade. It was awful, as you would expect. But I wrote faithfully, every single night. I took my work to my friend who eagerly awaited the day’s additions. All these years later, I have no clue what happened to that first book. Knowing my mother, it quietly made its way into the trash once I was otherwise occupied with normal teen things—Sunday afternoon movies, hanging out with friends, church youth group,  and always, music.