I have often been skeptical of journalists in one respect. They all are very stubborn, nosy people. They push and ask and talk until you think you’ll get sick. I often wondered what in the world fueled this hunger. Now I know.
I love how God does sends several things, which at first glance seem completely unrelated. But once started upon, these tasks or events suddenly have some common purpose. This semester I have decided to be a staff writer and proof-editor for the Rambler. An avid writer, I’m always looking for ways to practice my first love. This seemed like such a clear way to do this. And then, I was drawn to clean the Kevin’s cemetery. Two completely unrelated tasks? No, because not only is the cemetery clean and lovely (thanks to five wonderful people who are named in my article), but I have written an article for the paper on this very topic.
I hope to post it on my blog when I mail the article to John on Thursday night. I was thoroughly interested in what the story was behind the couple in the graveyard. I had an insatiable hunger to find out everything I could concerning their story. I can’t even begin to count the people with whom I spoke about the Wrights. After numerous searches on the internet and many conversations with faculty and staff, I finally found their story. And what a beautiful story!
But that is not my point. I could suddenly see why journalists seems like such pushy people! I mean, I was so interested in this that my poor friends must have heard me talk about the article and story hundreds of times. But I was fueled by a strong desire to find the story of these forgotten people. I yearned to find their story and bring it to the poeple. I wanted to share the lives of a past time with today’s students.
And I did. The article will be in next week’s Rambler. I am so excited about all of this. From the help with the cemetery to the awesome story I found, I can see why journalists get so excited. So, read the my article in next week’s Rambler and go pray for the Wrights. It’s quite a nice little spot, if I say so myself.