New Pen by Susan L.

I have to replace the lovely fountain pen my daughter gave me several years ago. It rolled off the table and smashed the nib. I was so sad about it on so many different levels. We've travelled untold pages, the pen and I. It knows all too well the dark depths of the Black River. Many, many prayers and declarations of gratitude flowed from its point, too. It has documented my transformation from invisible thing into this wonderfully wobbly-growing-in-confidence woman of God. The pen has been crucial in learning how to express myself vocally. It has been a sword when I wrote a letter about the inhumane treatment I received while at the psych hospital. My complaint was validated although at the time I declined to take it further. I just wanted the human rights violations on record with the College of Physicians and Surgeons. Being in hospital, twice, contained some of the darkest days in my life. Most of all, the pen has allowed me the opportunity of learning to hear God's voice amidst all the chaos and pain of the river. It feels a bit strange, writing an obituary for a pen because even though it doesn't work any more, I'll put it in my treasure box. It has been a major key that has opened my heart and soul to so many amazing things. "He sent from above, He took me; He drew me out of many waters." Ps 18:16