It’s never too late to become the writer I was meant to be. This is what I tell myself as the years fly past and the lines beneath my eyes grow deep.
I’ve been a writer for five years, meaning I’ve been studying the craft, reading everything I can get my hands on, and writing like mad. My faith testimony has been published, I’ve done well in a few writing contests, and several of my short stories are in the queue for future publication. But is that all there is?
The urge to write overwhelmed me soon after I found Christ. Coincidence? I think not. Often, when my voice fails me, when my lips open and my spoken words fall out flat—my written words flow freely, proclaiming my love for Christ as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do. I am made to write, and I am meant to write something more.
What on earth is holding me back?
For weeks at a time, I write vigorously, charging ahead, pouring myself into my words. Then, out of nowhere, fear invades my workspace. My writing comes to a screeching halt as fear pollutes my mind, trying to convince me that I am inadequate and will surely fail. Fear insists that every word I type is destined to plunge into obscurity. I start to wonder if I’ve misunderstood my calling. I start to believe I am wasting my time.
Fear is my enemy, laughing as he casts his giant shadow over my muse, gloating as my fingers pause above the keyboard. But I will not be defeated because I know my fear is misplaced, that I need to shift from fear of man, to fear of God. I have not been made to write so I can receive worldly praise and fame. I have been made to write so I can know, understand, and praise God.
Thank you David, for showing me where to place my fear:
And when the Philistine looked about, and saw David, he disdained him: for he was but a youth, and ruddy, and of a fair countenance. And the Philistine said unto David, Am I a dog, that thou comest to me with staves? And the Philistine cursed David by his gods. And the Philistine said to David, Come to me, and I will give thy flesh unto the fowls of the air, and to the beasts of the field. Then said David to the Philistine, Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied. This day will the Lord deliver thee into mine hand; and I will smite thee, and take thine head from thee; and I will give the carcases of the host of the Philistines this day unto the fowls of the air, and to the wild beasts of the earth; that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel. (1Samuel 17:42-47 KJV)
The battle is the Lord’s, not mine. All I need to do is stand in His name. I do not need to worry about winning the fight.
So I take my stand, and I say to my fear, “You come to me with doubt, criticism, and despair, but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of His people, whom you have defied. This day the Lord will deliver you into my hand; and I will smite you, and I will take your head.”
Then, after a mighty “Hoorah!” and several enthusiastic fist pumps, I settle in front of my laptop and write vigorously, charging ahead, pouring myself into my words, drenching myself in the knowledge and fear of God, in whom my ultimate purpose is met.
*This article was originally posted on Ritty's Adventures in writing on 11/20/13.
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