I took a walk today. It is something I promised myself six months ago I would do every  day, and with that promise came at least one mile. I can count on one hand how many  times I actually kept it.

I usually walk with my two best friends, my four legged friends, Macie and Lulu. But not  today. Today I needed to talk to you, God. Just you and me, walking on this dusty dirt  road I used to think was so elegant. Not anymore. I am convinced the car wash down  the street stays in business because of me and my dirty car.

But anyway… back to you, God.

It has been an incredible last few months, and I could not have done it without you. Do  not think for a minute that I missed a single message you sent to keep me going,  especially as I sat down each day to write  Denim Wars .

The enormous buck that greeted me on my front lawn when I was standing there  thinking of you, Dad. That is what started it all.  “When are you going to write the book, Babs?”

A familiar question for years.

I only wish you were here so I could hand it to you and say, “Here, Dad.”

I know the look that would follow. I’ll always remember it. That Dad look. You don’t have  to explain it… if you know, you know. It’s ours. That twinkle, that half smile… and then  their eyes start to fill up, and they turn their head just a little, because they don’t want  you to see.

Why does it take so long to appreciate those moments?

It did for me.

I was always onto the next thing, never realizing how important it was to pause, to look  around, to slow down. I do that now, but God, it took me too long. I was afraid if I  stopped pedaling, I would fall off the bike and crash.

What I know now is this… the crashing is the best part.

It is the getting back up that makes you who you are.

And I understand that some people cannot get up right away. Some stay on the ground,  wishing they could. That is okay too. We all rise at different times, if we are lucky.

Because of you, God, and only you, I was able to rise again. From my knees, to  standing, to finally doing what I know I was meant to do. Not for fame, not for  recognition… but for me.

You kept sending signs as the pages flew by.

The red cardinal that sat outside my window, peeking in as if to say, keep going. I

named him Coach. And when the book was done, he left. I guess the season was over.

The hawk that showed up when I was stuck, when I needed to decide how deep I was  willing to go.

I changed the names of the characters to protect the innocent, but for those who were  there… they know.

And then yesterday.

I was changing my closet from winter to spring when a photo of you, Dad, slipped out of  the book you gave me in high school,  The Ninth Wave .  I did not understand the  message back then. Truth is, I did not understand most of what you were trying to tell  me.

The author and her dad.

But I do now.

Back to you, God…

I wake up differently these days. I set out all those years ago wanting to write, to  become… if you have read my book… the next Barbara Walters.

But life decides for you sometimes.

And life had other plans.

The amazing thing is this… here I am, all these years later, because of your plan, I still  found my way back to what I set out to do. And then you sent the most amazing people  my way. Incredible, really. A chance encounter with a stranger at Bergdorf Goodman in  New York City that somehow led me to my publisher, who deserves a trophy for her  guidance and patience… and then more people, one after another, just showing up  when I needed them most.

And somewhere along the way, I realized something even bigger… I am finally the  person I used to be, before life made me the person I had to become. That is truly the  best part of the story.

I wake up now with a sense of peace that was missing for so long.

So thank you, God.

And as you continue to place people in my life, I promise this time… I will appreciate  them.

Let’s keep it coming.