(Photo by K)
Do you see the problem with my scenario? I was all about me. I even had two homes planned, winters in Texas, summers in North Carolina. I became a writing whore, wracking my brain to figure out what “they” wanted. A couple of close calls made it even more tantalizing. As a result, writing lost its zest for me. Eventually, I stopped (not the prayers, though). If I was going to entitle a chapter for that period, it would be “The invasiveness of ego.” I threw up the obligatory prayer, but I was writing the menu.
God’s plan was for me to be a teacher, and He wanted me to teach writing. Boy, talk about the blind leading the blind. I used to teach my students that if you wanted to be a writer, you had to develop a strong ego—because you had to be convinced that you had something to say, and you had to be able to handle rejection. I still believe both those things. I neglected to tell them that you must not allow your ego to become the center of the universe (for your writing or your life). I also forgot to tell them what a gift the creative urge is. If you create something (writing, music, painting, singing, dancing, performing, athletics, and a myriad of other forms) and feel in your heart that “It is good”, you are mirroring the image of God—like you are supposed to.
People are uncomfortable with the idea of writing (substitute any other art form) for God. It sounds so sanctimonious. The obvious—he doesn’t need you to write for Him. I hate to disillusion all you believers, but God doesn’t need you for anything. He just invites us to join His glorious parade. So writing (or whatever) is for your benefit, not His. But do you see how the center has shifted? You can’t write for Him with your ego. Impossible. So I have decided to write for God. That doesn’t mean my ego, the shiftiest of all shadows, will not insinuate itself when I’m not looking. But I have a contract—get thee hence.
The pleasure of writing for God is the freedom. No editors (except Karen)—I take responsibility for whatever I write. No publisher—no query letters, no agent searches, no market evaluations, no pressure to follow the media. No money—I used to think if I put this much time into something, I should get paid for it. If it worked that way, I would be a professional golfer. No deadlines—except internal ones—which I like because I am trying to develop self-control. And I can write about whatever comes into my mind, because I believe God watches over my mind—what freedom!
The pain of writing (or any art form) for God is doubt. Do I have Your guidance? Are you really leading me? What do I have to say? Why should anybody listen? Do I pretend to represent You? Me trying to express You is like a seventh grade kid taking his first theater class trying to express Brando—only way way way moreso. The only way I have been able to overcome these doubts is by believing You want me to try it.
So, to my readers, I knew I wanted to write again. I couldn’t find a novel or a short story or whatever. I wanted to write what I thought about. I didn’t want to dabble (I always tend to dabble). Ah, but those doubts…I vowed (scary word, vow) that I’d do a blog post twice a week for a year (started July 2). If you’ve gotten this far, that’s why we are here.
I used to hope I’d get rich and famous. Hmmm. What do I hope now? I hope I can stick to my vow. I hope that the people who read me will be moved in some small way toward Him. I hope my writing will enable me to make new friends and re-establish slumbering friendships. Most of all, I hope it pleases Him. “All the earth shall worship You and sing praises to You.” (Psalm 66:4) I just want to join the chorus.
Thanks, Dallin!