After the blessing of being with so many writers at the recent summer conference, I’ve thought a lot about various things. Being a writer and responding to His leading raises a lot of emotions, doesn’t it? I appreciated how many of the speakers talked about the feelings we might have as writers. Sometimes we feel like we are “not enough.” Sometimes we wrestle with doubts or feel intimidated by the task in front of us. We all have various motives for writing, but as believers, we write in response to His calling on our lives. We write as an offering to Him.
Many people I met write because they love to, as an expression of who they are. I’m sure some write with the hope of publication and also some income. Then there’s a whole industry to try to comprehend and the learning curve may be huge and deadlines and improving our craft become vital. We are His Creation, and our identity is found in Christ. I pray that we never get lost in finding our place in the world or too caught up in how to succeed in this industry. Yes, I have plenty to learn. But “we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared forehand that we should walk in them.” (Ephesians 2:10 ESV).
My prayer is to never lose sight of writing as a way to honor and glorify the Lord, to somehow share His love and grace with a world that needs Him. Rather than feeling stress and pressure to perform well, I pray that I can abide in Him and that writing becomes an extension of that abiding in the True Vine, the source of life and inspiration. Just as the cherry tomatoes grow and ripen on the vines of my sprawling plant in my garden, I pray that any fruit that comes from my efforts reflects the Vine, my source of life and power.
While living in China years ago, I heard a tape of Jill Briscoe talking about how her writing only had power when it came from a heart already worshipping the Savior when she picked up the pen. Oh, Father, please help me to begin my days in worship, finding my identity and hope in You. Help me not to splash the page with ink before I have found myself hidden in You.