Putting the Paper to Bed

A Blog Sharing the Intro to Katie's Book by Katie Hawkins

My dad was the owner and editor of a small-town newspaper that came out weekly. Let me tell you that putting the paper to bed was a big deal.

Each week, Dad worked tirelessly to get the newspaper printed and delivered. The newspaper lingo for that last stage of finalizing the edits before printing was called “putting the paper to bed.” Most weeknights, Dad would come home for dinner only to return to the office to work more hours. Thursday nights were different. He’d come home early, and we’d share “cocktail hour” before dinner. He’d stay home with us that night, a little mini-celebration every week.

Now it’s my turn to make the final edits and get all my written words tucked in. During this long and isolating season of—first, cancer, and then, the Coronavirus—I wrote a book.  It’s called She Speaks Stories: Finding Hope, Help, and Healing in a Hard World. (I know, a bit too much alliteration, but I like the way it rolls off the tongue!) I signed a contract with a publisher a couple weeks ago, and I can’t believe this book just might be printed and delivered by Christmas. If so, we’ll have more than a short cocktail hour and mini-celebration…we’ll have a book bash!  And you all will be invited to celebrate what God can do in a very ordinary person’s life.

We will have some extraordinary things to celebrate! First off, a toast to God for actually giving me something to write about and an audience to write to. Every good party has lots of laughter, and the ironic twist of this book makes me chuckle. I can picture my daughter Molly hootin’ and hollerin’ with me at our party. You see, Molly and I had talked for years about writing a book together. Well, really, we talked about the book tour we’d go on and all the fancy hotels we would stay in. We’d spin dreams of all the new cities we’d see and how rich and famous we’d be. And then we’d end every conversation by saying, “It’s too bad we’d have to actually write a book because we really don’t have anything to say. At least nothing of importance that anyone would want to read!” But when I was diagnosed with cancer, Molly said something to me that got me thinking that maybe I do have something to say. And then, I decided that instead of my writing partner, Molly would be my intended audience.

Here’s a sneak peek at the introduction to my book, so you’ll understand what I’m talking about.

Introduction: Addressing a Broken Heart

My daughter, Molly, was one of the first people I called to share the results of my recent breast biopsy. She’s the baby of our little family of four children and the only girl. She was twenty-nine years old at the time and had chosen to live a crazy, crowded, adrenaline-filled life in New York City. From her teeny, tiny apartment in Manhattan, she responded to my bad news.

 “Mom, I don’t understand the point of praying. I’ve begged God these last weeks to not let you have cancer, and you do. I’m guessing He is making it clear to me that if I refuse to surrender my life to Him, He will punish me by killing you. What is the point of praying? He is going to do what He wants, and my words make no difference. I am telling you now, you can’t die because I cannot live without you. I won’t stay in this world if you leave it!”

It broke my heart that my precious only daughter had such a low view of God—that she thought He was mean and punishing. It made me feel defensive for Him because that’s not what He’s like at all. It also made me sad for her, because where would she find hope or help or healing for a broken heart if I were to die of this aggressive breast cancer? God had been such a rock in my own life since I’d met Him personally in Guantánamo Bay, Cuba, the winter of 1981, before starting a life that entailed moving every year or two. I married an officer in the United States Marine Corps, a Lieutenant Michael Hawkins, and his orders took us all over the country and out of it, once, to Japan. It was an adventurous life that I wouldn’t trade for anything, but it was hard. Without God pouring His love on me, I’m very sure I wouldn’t have lasted. Divorce, disillusionment, and destructive addictions would have been my lot. I was somewhat of a drunk (not falling down in the gutter, but a huge party girl) when I met the Lord in a real way, and He’s been healing me ever since. Oh, that Molly would understand His goodness and His unconditional love!

“Tell her! Tell her about Me,” God whispered to my soul in the way He does.

“What? Hasn’t she watched me all these years interacting with You, Lord? Hasn’t she listened, hasn’t she heard it all?

Remember the time I paid her $300 to take a course at our church so she could know You like I know You?” (Truthfully, I was just forgiving her outstanding debt. I didn’t fork over cold hard cash, so it felt less like an outright payment!)

He instantly reminded me how ineffective that had been, along with all my other attempts at lectures and Bible quoting and trying to convince her that a relationship with the Living God beats any other human relationship, hands down.

The end of my conversation with God wasn’t a clear direct voice in my ear, but a knowing that He had birthed in me a desire to write a book. Writing a book would just be another medium to share what I know to be true of Him. This cancer season, and my conversation with Molly at the start of it all, gave me my message: “Lord, I will tell Molly, and any other dear reader who might choose to listen in, of the myriad of ways You have sent hope, help, and healing into my life these past decades.”

So, friends, if I ever get this book put to bed, I hope you will join me and Molly as we celebrate. We won’t be at a fancy hotel or on a book tour, and there will be no earthly riches or fame, but we will be rejoicing over any heavenly good that will come from a book where God is the hero. Cocktail hours with my dad and family were fun, but a party praising our Heavenly Father with you all will be over the top!