December 17, 2012

to write

Constantly, I check my reading list of blogs, hoping for something inspirational, moving or intriguing to  appear. I crave the souls of people, and the warmth of their words. No new posts have appeared as of yet, even when I tap the page closed and open again with two minutes. (as we all know, this works... well, never.)

So I decided to write my own warmth tonight.

Lately, the itch to write has been incessant, nagging my fingers to tap out words, phrases, sentences, fragments, run-ons, anything. Yet I have nothing to say. Nothing I want to say.

I do not wish to say this or that because I am afraid of what people might think. Will it sound corny? Tacky? Badly written? Ridiculous?

I try to pretend that no one will read this. I am not fooling anyone. I know I will post a link to this post on Facebook and more people than my usual two or three regulars will soak in the letters I have sent to float on this ocean of white. It makes me nervous. Writing makes me even more vulnerable than usual.

{... only he is an emancipated thinker who is not afraid to write foolish things.}
Anton Chekhov

I fear writing foolish things. 

Dickens, Bronte, Gaskell, Tolkein, and Lewis are mountains of writing I may never reach, a daunting thought. But I have a little hill of my own to climb. I must write. And so I will, I do-- every time realizing that my fear will come true: I will write a great deal of foolishness. It must not matter. I have been blessed with a gift with words in my own way and time. To pretend it to be otherwise is spitting in the face of the One who gave it. He has asked me to use my gift and I will. 

I do not have to be the greatest writer in history. I do not even have to ever publish a book. If I can use my words to lift others up and show them love, then I have used my gift well. I simply have to trust Him. When He asks me to write, I will write and trust Him to move through me in whatever way is best. It is in my hands then out of my hands so mysteriously and beautifully. I can write--be myself, who I am meant to be--and not worry, not fear.  

This is freedom.

1 comment:

  1. Beautifully true. And what joy is found in freedom. <3

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