Inspired by . . . owning it

Inspired by . . . owning it

 

Prelude:

I wrote this post back in November, after my #write31days experience, but never got around to posting it.  There is something about God’s timing {sigh}.

The feelings I express below have not changed, but there is now a new dimension to my #write31days experience. You see, God knew what I’d be facing over the next few months. My series on JOY, as much as I meant it to bless others, God meant it/used it to prepare me for what lay ahead.

My friend, He cares for us – YOU - in the most intimate of ways. Do not ever doubt this Truth. The words of Corrie ten Boom, that I shared with you at the close of 2014, have never been more relevant to me than they are now.

 

 

November, 2014

I’m different.

I know this because I’ve been in writers groups. I’ve read your blogs about why you write, how you write and what happens if you don’t write.

Very little of it resonates with me.

I’m different.

Different does not equal less than.

Different does not equal better.

Different is just different.

I’ve been a reader of words all my life. I love words. How they are used, their histories, etc. It never occurred to me to write anything myself. Nothing produced in school had tempted me to continue. Nothing simmering inside, yearning to get out. I was happy to read what others had written.

Then one day, about fourteen years ago, God woke me up from a dream and told me to write the rest of the story.

It was . . . odd. Like a dream itself.

So are the other six books and the literally hundreds of scenes –that-spawn-stories that He has given me since.

And then in 2011 came this blog. A new world, new blessings.

All of this, and yet I have never considered myself a writer.

My friends and family use the term without abandon. “Oh, she’s written. . . .” blah, blah, blah. “She’s an author.” blah, blah, blah

I sort of smile, and shrink inside myself, because it’s not me.

The mediocre, yes. The words stumbled upon, yes. That’s all me.

Anything you’ve read that’s clever, creative, meaningful, profound – that’s God.

And yet, saying that sounds so presumptuous . . .

. . . and yet.

The words inside me have been poured in, to be poured out. I am not their creator. They are not birthed from something inside of me. I must continually go to the Source to be filled.

I don’t have a daily discipline of writing - - Gasp! I know.

I write when inspired. And sometimes I write uninspired, to fill this space because I think I need to, and you can likely tell the difference.

This is why I don’t participate in challenges or prompts {unless they are photographic}. I greatly admire those of you who can write for five minutes every Friday. Those of you who have rocked this #write31days for the past five years. I sit in awe of you all, truly. However, this awe does not translate into a burning need to participate. The desire is not there. Probably because the talent is not there. I know my limits.

So when I found myself deciding to take the #write31days challenge, I looked around wondering what had just happened. It’s one of those decisions you make that you didn’t really make. This should have been my first clue that God was up to something. When God takes me out of my comfort zone, it’s not a gentle nudge. {Thank you, God} No, it’s more like being hit by the bullet train.

So I began. And God, in His great mercy, left manna for me every morning. For 31 days.

And somewhere along the way, day 27 actually – I’m a slow learner - I realized that God was trying to show me something.

I am a writer.

I’ve come to a place where I can own it.

I am a writer.

But God also confirmed for me something I already knew; I am not the Author.

It’s true people use these terms interchangeably, however, they do also have very individual meanings.

 

Author - one that originates or creates

Writer - someone whose work is to write books, poems, stories, etc.

 

These last 31 days have been far from a walk in the desert for me. Meeting God over a bowl of manna each morning has been a Gift. Receiving confirmation of His will, for at least part of my life, has been free-ing. Truly a JOYful experience, for which I am eternally thankful.

 

 

Most assuredly, I say to you, a servant is not greater than his master;

nor is He who is sent greater than He who sent Him. John 13:16

He must increase, but I must decrease. John 3:30

 

Blessings,

June

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