Cade sat alone on the porch sipping his coffee as light crept over the horizon. The branches of nearby trees swayed to and fro as a gentle breeze swept past. It was the dawn of a new day and a chill was in the air. Cade began each day in a similar fashion. It was his routine, and he was if anything a creature of habit.
He woke at 5am on the dot, made a pot of coffee and sat on the front porch reading his bible. As soon as the sun came up, he would refill his coffee cup for the second time and go for a walk. Cade would take at least two walks each day, morning and evening. When the mood hit him just right, he’d even mix in a short afternoon walk after lunch. It was his special time to be alone with his thoughts.
He kept a small notebook tucked into his back pocket, just in case inspiration struck—and it usually did. Cade’s desk was littered with notes and thoughts that hit him while lost in the wilds of nature. One day he would be mulling over some problem of life and the next enthralled with the wonders of creation. His notes were just as scattered in subject as they were in position.
He didn’t know what to do with this ever growing assortment of words. He had too much of an emotional attachment to discard them, and yet little clue how to put them to use. Every day when he returned from his walk, he’d place his new notes on top of the desk, or in a drawer and turn his attention to other things. The result was a tangled mess of observations, thoughts and ideas gathering dust on an old man’s desk.
One day, the phone rang. It was his buddy Scott who like Cade, had an ever mounting collection of little notes. Scott didn’t know what to do with his anymore than Cade did, but that morning genius had hit him. “What if?” How many lives have turned on that little phrase. Two magic words, soaked with power. The power to change destinations and rewrite destinies. When Cade heard the phrase, his heart leapt. It was the opportunity he’d been waiting for and now it had arrived.
The next morning Cade sat down at his desk, after his first walk of the day, and began to organize the scattered bits of paper covering its top. Soon he found himself pulling out his typewriter and pounding out new ones. He did this day after day, for months on end. Just when his wife would think he was done, he’d refill his cup, and return to the keyboard. His fingers danced across the keys with the precision and ease of a concert pianist as he composed page after page until at last he was finished with his task.
What had been percolating in his heart for years on end, came pouring out and he loved it. He had found an outlet and taken the first step forward. He had something to say, and it didn’t matter if anyone else ever saw it. He needed to do the work. For far too long, Cade had ignored the gentle nudge prodding him from within. “Write,” it whispered in his ear. He’d ignored that voice for year after year until, at long last it got his attention.