There You are God. You didn't move. I did. I got myself way ahead of You, and I finally stopped to look back. And there You are - waiting.
Waiting in the same spot we started. You were ready to move forward with me by Your side, but I went running in the opposite direction.
And then I was lost.
I set my alarm today. Something I don't normally do on a weekend. I just knew I had many tasks demanding my attention, but I didn't want to lose my time to write.
The written word is beautiful and freeing and healing for me, a gift from God.
The "unwritten" years of my life - the years I don't have journals - are the years I felt most lost and unsure and depressed on a regular basis.
I've been unable to write for weeks. I sat down this morning while the house was still quiet and put pen to paper. Two pages in, I was frozen again. Rather than releasing my heart and all its entanglements, I saw it as a writing piece, needing to be polished before acceptable.
Do I have a good first sentence? Will it draw the reader in and keep them interested enough to read the rest of what I have to say?
How are my transitions? Are they smooth? Do they make sense?
Am I using vivid verbs? Telling a story people will be interested to read?
This is not why I write.
God has given me a gift to craft words, and He has given me the desire to write them down. When He speaks through me, it is lovely, and I have no doubt it's from Him. But, when I'm striving to write in my own power and strength, the words are forced and sooner or later, like a clogged drain, I'm stagnant.
So, here I sit at the kitchen table with my English muffin - one side butter, one side butter with cinnamon and sugar - eaten and my coffee needing to be reheated for the 4th time because it takes me forever to drink anything. I look at the dust on the table and force myself not to get up and grab the Pledge. I am writing without worrying about the craft and skill. Not worrying about whether it makes any sense. I do this to return to the writing journey I began with God.
Last summer I created a website and began to blog. I desired to have a place that looked like the inside of my heart. Where beautiful words and beautiful pictures came together. So much life was gained when I did this. It's difficult to explain, but my website design was an exact replica of what I saw within myself. It was amazing.
There I was standing with God. I know because of the pure delight I experienced. But then I took off running, didn't rest in the moment, didn't wait for God's direction, didn't ask, and didn't listen. Not even for 24 hours. Possibly not even an hour.
I turned it into a job, placing pressure and expectations on myself about how often I needed to write, how to get likes, shares, and subscribers. The life was sucked out of my dream to be a writer. I began doing things God never asked me to do, which is why I hit a wall, began struggling with depression, and felt so distant from Him and everything else.
God said, "Open your heart it's time that we start again." Lyrics from a Hawk Nelson song, yes, but spoken by God directly to my heart.
I'm standing next to Him again with His hand in mine. The future is unknown. I don't know what He wants to do through my writing. I only know what He wants to do right now ... in this moment.
And that's enough. It's all I need to know.
I'm ready.