Five Minute Friday: Writer
I've been a writer since I could write. I still have some of my earliest work about a wolf who befriended a lake, and kissed her in thanks. About rabbits and foxes and small adventures made of misspelled words and the crazed new handwriting of a young girl.
Writing has sustained, kept me going. Sometimes I write to think rather than the other way around. But I haven't always believed I am a writer. There have been dear friends who have had to convince me. But they did. And so did He.
Writing not only sustains me, but can be the means to reach out and touch the wounds of others, a way of conversing with people far from me. It is a gift that I hope can be for His glory, ultimately.
But being a writer in this world is hard. Collegiate expectations are heavy, pushing postmodernism, this cynical, dark way. But I have never been good at being bullied into things. Stubbornness pervades, and I write my own joyful melancholy, the hope that He has given. He weaves it into every word, and sometimes I don't even see it until later.
Sometimes the writing bleeds out, but the best, hardest writing is honest writing.
He is faithful when we are writerly brave.