My friend Jodie is hosting an Advent series over on her blog, and today's devotion comes from Exodus 3:1-20. She asked everyone to share about a time when God asked us to do something that maybe we weren't crazy about, and for me, that something was writing. The following is a post I wrote a year or so ago, prior to the recent smack upside the head that told me to get serious. This has obviously been an ongoing process and to be honest, it's something God and I are still working out....
I have a love/hate relationship with
writing.
Up until four years ago, I wrote when I
had to. Period. I didn't mind doing it for school (and in fact, I
typically did very well on writing assignments), but never in a
million years would I consider it a hobby. It just wasn't what I
did. I was not a writer. Or so I thought.
If you know my story, you know that God
had other plans. He decided to prove to me that, yes, I was a writer
whether I wanted to be one or not. In the beginning, He literally
had to pull the words out of me, and it wasn't uncommon to hear me
pounding my fists on the desk and crying I don't wanna do this!
I got over it, though. Eventually.
And now I'm pretty willing to admit that I was wrong.
Over the years, I've decided I'm fine having
writing as a hobby. If I happen to find myself with nothing else to
do, then by all means, you can most certainly find me in a cozy
coffee shop with my Bible and notebooks strewn about, happily tapping away at the keyboard. Those are the times I love
it. But the thing is, those coffee shop moments are rare. It's not very
often that I have that time. And I'm totally okay with that. I love my job
and the ministries I'm involved in, and I don't mind staying busy.
But every now and then, I get restless.
I start feeling like there's this huge part of me that's missing.
Like life isn't going the way God wants it to. Every time that
happens, I pray for direction. And every time, God reminds me of
those early days, the days when I wrote purely for Him, not because
it was fun. The days when I was knee-deep in blogging and pursuing
publication. The days when I relied on Him for each and every
sentence that came from my hands.
It was glorious.
Time and again, I try to tell myself
that it was my walk with God that fulfilled me, not the act of
putting words on a page. And while I know He absolutely comes first,
I simply cannot escape the idea of writing.
I've tried. Over and over I've tried. I kicked and
screamed. I gave in and gave it my all. I ignored the longing. But
every time, He says This is what I want you to do. And
it's not enough to make it your hobby.
Hmph.
It's nice, in a
way, to know what your calling involves. But when it's something you
have to work really, really hard at and whose business side kills
your creativity.... it's much more fun to keep it at arm's length.
Writing for fun doesn't come with the pressure or responsibility or
expectations that writing “for real” does.
And I'm not sure
yet how I feel about going down that road again. If I'm being
honest, those are the times I hate it. As much as I want to do God's
will and be faithful to the gifts He's given me, part of me simply
wants to keep it as a hobby, something I can enjoy on my terms.
It's safer that way.
Still, there are
times when I come across something I've written in the past, words that hit me as though I've never heard them before, and I know I
can't play it safe. God had something to say back then, and somehow, He
managed to say it through little ol' me.
What if He wants to
do that again?
1 comment:
Still love this. And yep, writing for fun is SO VERY DIFFERENT!
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