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I am one of those people who never knows what to say when it’s the right time to say something, and often says the wrong thing at the wrong time. However, when I write, my thoughts come together in a powerful form that I can understand. When I put my pen to paper, everything begins to make sense. I begin to hear what God is telling me and am able to communicate what is really in my heart.
Being that writing is such a powerful vehicle in my relationship with God, it’s no wonder that I meet resistance when the Holy Spirit inspires me. There are forces at work, telling me that my writing is awful and that I should just give up and pursue something sensible, like business. It’s often a struggle to sit down and write. After all, there are dirty dishes in the sink, the house is full of dog hair, and I feel guilty about neglecting my husband.
Lately the words aren’t flowing like they did when I first knew that God wanted me to write. Right outside my window, the night sky is full of stars, all of them praising God, and I still can’t think of a single thing to say. The crickets chirp, reflecting the emptiness inside of my head.
I think of recent events. I finished school for the semester and began to work full time rather than part time. I have been concentrating on serving God by being diligent and honest in my work, even though the job is often frustrating. I come home drained and uninspired. I exercise to clear my head, tend to the chores of the evening, and by the time dinner is done the bed is starting to look pretty good.
What has happened to that feeling in my heart, when I was bursting with ideas? I want to surrender myself, and be filled with all that is loving, righteous, and holy. I want it to overflow from my pen and spill into the hearts of everyone that may read the words I write, especially the people in my life that look at me like I’m crazy when they see the cross dangling from the chain around my neck. What do I tell them? I never know, and I’m afraid that it will come out all wrong, but maybe I can write it. I know I’m meant to write it, that this is my special gift, my way of loving God and my neighbor, and maybe even my purpose.
Tonight, I can join the stars as they praise God. I thank Him for a mind that yearns for thoughts to inspire, and a hand that can hold a pen. This is why I write.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
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