Epic Battle.

For the past hour and a half, I have been pumping out word after word. It has not been slow and steady, thought out and carefully written. No, I sat down, I opened my document, and I began to pound those keys.

I have just finished a chapter (number 18, by the way) that I cannot call "a chapter" but "THE CHAPTER". For all of the plots lines that are present in this story -- and being a memoir there are several subtle ones there -- this is the conflict of all conflicts of the struggle: what does is mean to be a missionary?

It is so incredibly different writing this part. Instead of just sharing what happened, what was going on, experiences I had -- which all are very important parts of the story -- I am at the meat of the matter. I am writing the message that this book has the purpose of sharing. Because, truth be told, funny stories and cute anecdotes do not make a plot. They are part of it, but the conflict, the struggle, the growth, and eventually the climax and resolution, that is what makes a story a story.

Sad to say, I was not the winner of this battle. Kind of like Superman here. Instead, this chapter did not end with a humorous tidbit or a thought provoking idea I wanted to share. No, this chapter ended with me feeling deflated, completely and utterly deflated.

But we know how it works out for Superman in the end. He is triumphant. And I know how this will work out for me in the end. I will have the answers I am looking for. But I also know that Superman has to go through a lot to get there, just as Tiffany will need to go through a lot to finish strong.

As they say, "We may have lost the battle, but we can still win the war."