A spring in my step this morning. Friday. I’ve kind of been longing for Friday, not because it’s the last day of the working week, but because it is the first day of the working week when I have been able to stay home, out of a car, away from any meetings – good or bad.
I was full of plans. A few tasks to mop up which I’ve been intending to do for awhile. Yuck stuff. But then, I thought, I would take time to try and reinvest in whatever writing career I ever had. I’ve just been too easily distracted these last months. I’ve not been writing creatively. I’ve hardly written any proposals or articles. I’ve not researched anything or challenged myself in this area at all.
I’ve been distracted. I’ve been wondering if my writing years are over. After all, they weren’t very successful, in a worldly sense. Yes, I turned out three books which I think have merit. Yes, I’ve had a fairly regular outlet for magazine articles.
But it’s all been a push. It takes energy. It takes imagination. It takes sheer hard work. It takes hours.
And it takes self-belief. And for me, a belief that it is what God is calling me to spend my time on.
I feel like the little boy with the picnic lunch. I have a picnic lunchbox size gift for writing, but I want God to take that and feed the masses with it.
So far, he’s not done that. And I’m stagnating. Time is flying by. And I’m not writing.
Well, I’ll go walk the dog. Maybe I’ll find inspiration there. Maybe God will tell me to put away the lap top and go find something else to do.
Or maybe He’ll give me an idea. Encouragement. Confirmation that yes, I was born to write.
Whether or not it feeds the masses. It may just feed my soul. And maybe that’s enough.
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