Confessions from my writer’s desk
I can’t seem to stop writing today.
Words, in caffeinated-like frenzy, somersault down the slide from brain to keyboard-glued fingertips.
I scribble notes as I take my shower.
Thankfully, the ink doesn’t run.
I stop the hairdryer to capture a few more as they whizz by in reckless abandon.
I arrange and rearrange them. More shout to get out and join the happy flood.
Five hours pass.
I forget to eat.
I’ve been away somewhere, yet right here all day.
I’ve felt fear, sadness, and despair.
My teeth have clenched.
My shoulders tensed.
My stomach knotted.
Later they release.
Joy, hope, and love return in a welcome relief.
Something has changed in me today. The spring of words that was tapped into is like no other spring I’ve ever known.
I didn’t even WANT to write today.
I wanted a lazy home alone day. I wanted to plant flowers. Take a nap. Read a book.
But I thought I would take a passing look at the chapter I finished on Monday first. The one in the book I’m writing…and endeavoring to live.
I fixed a phrase. Revised an awkward transition, added a new paragraph…
A paragraph that was hard to write. One that cost me. Cost me my pride, my writer’s pretense, and my avoidance of the real me.
Because it was me. Using words to share about me. Telling truths I never wanted to tell.
And then suddenly the words would not stop. Out of control, yet perfectly controlled by a deeper part of my writer self.
One I have never met before today.
Because I am a reluctant spokesperson for God. More afraid that my weaknesses will fail Him, than I am confident that He can do what He says He will do.
A Moses-like writer, a stuttering failure, who carries a pen as a staff in her hand. And God says,
“Throw it down”
“Pick it back up and write. And I will set my people free.”
I dare not believe it. I can only obey.
Yet I know I am different. God’s taken more control, freed me more from self…to be myself.
And I know…I am no longer a wanna-be.
A writer. A fool for Christ.
My words have been set free.
But not to teach.
Because healing words are not from the head. They bleed from the heart…to transfuse God’s love to a broken world.
I pray my future readers will see the drops of blood I shed on the pages of that book today. I pray God will use them to heal, even as I’ve been healed in the writing of them.
And now I pause in my writing to wonder, have you been a wanna-be too? Can you hear God asking you to throw down what you hold so tightly in your hand? The very thing He has spoken to you that He can use to set his people free?
Will you stay a wanna-be, or will you BE?
Yes, that is the question.
I bet you didn’t want God to ask you that question today, anymore than I did.
But He did. Because it’s time my friend,
…bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
I’m praying for you. For you to BE!
The world is waiting for exactly what you have to share.
And so am I.