PrayingWithMyFingers

September the now. August the past. October the future. That about says it all. My past haunts me. My future is uncertain other than a certain death and, the now is where I am trying to live because looking behind me and looking too far into the future can be painful and/or fearful.

Yesterday, in an effort to break out of my self-centered and fearful mind, I attended my first meeting of the Florida Writers Association. To say the least, it was amazing. Such a diversity of people and, as I looked around the room, I felt certain all of these people were better writers than me. After all, I spend more time thinking about writing than I do actually writing.

I was asked to share something about myself and my writing goals and I, disturbingly, spilled my guts. I told this roomful of strangers how overwhelmed I felt at the prospect of writing while at the same time, I couldn’t stop thinking about writing and my unending longing to be a writer. What I got back for my embarrassing display of emotion was a world of encouragement. Almost everyone in the room shared a bit about their own writing and encouraged me to – rather like a Nike commercial – just do it!

Although I had to leave the meeting before it was over (hungry puppies), I left with a heart full of hope that if these seemingly ordinary people had the courage to come to together and share their writing dreams, then perhaps by joining them, I could make some progress toward my own dream of writing. And, these brave souls are putting their desires into action instead of sitting on the couch hoping something will change.

I saw God speaking to me through these people and my morning devotion having been a portent of things to come. In 1 Corinthians 3:7, I read, “So neither the one who plans nor the one who waters is anything but only God who gives the growth.” This passage felt like a key to the fault in my thinking about writing. It is not MY writing. I close down and lose inspiration when I try to make writing about me. Even if it is “about me” its purpose is to be for God. If I open myself up to be used by God, then my hand and my pen are God’s instruments. If I put my ego and my petty concerns aside, God can use me as God sees fit.

But, then I must also let go of my desire for recognition or success as a writer. I must do the footwork (write) and leave the results in God’s hands. I must resign myself to be ordinary and write for both my desire to express and God’s purpose, big or small. And, I might add, being ordinary is no simple feat. I like it best as expressed by Oswald Chambers, “We have to be exceptional in the ordinary things, to be holy in mean streets, among mean people, and this is not learned in five minutes.”