- Jennifer Z. Major
Back in October, when I was in New Mexico, our hosts took us to a jewelry shop in Zuni Pueblo, which is where we found this beauty.
A silver arrow ring.
They didn't have my exact size, so I took the next size up and had this re-sized when I returned home.
I was pondering this ring yesterday, and the reason it's so important me.
First and foremost, it was a gift from my partner in crime, RCP.
Secondly, it reminds me that I must move forward.
Because as any arrow knows, if it's shot properly, it is impossible to go forward, get too scared of what's ahead, screech to a halt, and then go back.
When an arrow is shot, it doesn't stop to look back at how it was shot, it just flies.
It flies in an arc toward a target, be that man, beast, or hay bale.
It doesn't take a detour to sit and ponder why it's flying.
It doesn't change its mind and return to the bow to fly another day.
Nor does it mock the bow and drop from flight to go and become a wall hanging.
The arrow has one job: to fly toward a target, and to pierce that target. As it flies, it gains speed and power. The further it flies, the deeper the impact.
Thus, the shooter must work hard and aim carefully.
But if the bow is not pulled to its limit, the arrow does nothing.
And that, my friends, is how I approach my writing.
And that is why I wear this little arrow on my thumb.
Yes, I make sure the tip is pointing toward my heart, because I want my words to come from my heart, and to hit the through the heart.
Even though I may get mired in doubt, or run back and check something, or even just stop and rest somewhere?
The story flies true, toward impact.
And yes, I aim my words toward the hearts of my readers, whoever and wherever they may be.
One last thing.
Did you notice that the arrow is wrapped in silk?
God's truth is like that. Even if it pierces us, it is always wrapped in the softness of His love.