Into the Fire

Just because you can write doesn’t mean you can tell a story. Just because you can write doesn’t mean you’re owed a publishing contract. Just because you can write doesn’t mean the powers that be will “get” you. Just because you can write doesn’t mean anyone will “get” you.

Just because your language is elegant, eloquent, even effervescent, doesn’t mean a whole lot of anything. Some people love beautiful language wrapped around a good story. Others like stark words in a bare bones plot with dagger-like action. Then there are those who want something in between.

Maybe you like to write mysteriously, forcing your readers to witch-hunt for your meaning. Maybe you like to entrance, take a reader by the hand of their vision and lead them down an enchanting path which in the end is full of horror—a painful twist. Maybe you like to sweet-talk them into a forbidden romance which turns out honorably.

Even with the simplest plot, a novel is built around the story. And just because you can make words flow on a page, painting a masterpiece of language, doesn’t guarantee your story is worthy of all those words.

A lot of people can put words together, but what are they saying? Is it valuable? Who knows? Subjective decisions leave us unconvinced of merit. Scratching our heads at what we discover on the pages of some books, we are left . . . out. Left out. Not getting why something is considered well done, lovely, deserving of its binding.

Things are simpler, though no less painful, when you write for the Lord. When you yield your source of joy to blessing Him, to hearing his encouragement when you have none to muster, when you’re able to grit your teeth and proclaim the classic words of Jesus: Your will, not mine be done. Yielding is not an easy choice—even on the freeway ramps you see the struggle of those who want to ace out one more car, the one car not wanting to allow you in front of it, another car speeding up to close the available gap. We are so easily unyielding.

Just because you can write . . . The Lord knows what His plans are for that writing yielded to Him. We think we know them, but we don’t sometimes. We just think we can write. Without Him it doesn’t mean much.

God, the most important thing is you. Nothing I write can quite capture how grand you are. As much as I desire to proclaim your indescribable splendor, I can’t. No language holds a vocabulary to cover your beauty. Every effort falls short of your glory. Thank you for being the Truth. Thank you for finding me to show me the Way. And thank you for giving me Life in abundance in you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.