Into the Fire

It doesn’t usually happen early in life—and if it does, you’re no doubt in trouble. But it should happen at some point. It’s not confidence, it’s not boldness, although they will play a part in it. Young people and adults often demonstrate both confidence and boldness, but behind both of them resides internal argument with either.

At some point we have to gain contentment with who we are, get comfortable in our own skin, and be satisfied with the work of “our hands”. And it’s certainly not because of who we are in the flesh. It has nothing to do with that person who fights to be acknowledged for accomplishments, appearances, assets of any kind. No. It has everything to do with who God is building us to be.

Some time ago I posted about being satisfied with one’s writing. It only makes sense. Why write if everything you invest your time and effort into composing produces hatred for the product? I’m not suggesting we all decide our work is great, worthy of accolades and awards. We know in our hearts there is no way we can please everyone even if there was some way to plant our material in “everyone’s” lap. Most of us can’t even get an agent to look at our novels without attending a writer’s conference—and then it’s not a given by any means.

I know I emphasize to the max about the focus of who we are ultimately writing for—and I know that it chafes when I intimate that perhaps it will not lead to traditional publication. For an up-and-comer, that’s difficult to hear (or read). Often the objective of being published seems like the only possible goal for an individual who is willing to invest the time it takes to write a novel. I understand that, believe me.

Writing evolves. We get better the more we do it. Our voice becomes more succinct and changes somewhat as our life experiences produce growth and our attention to the craft magnifies or is enhanced by the ongoing pursuit of “great story”. Sometimes we take a bigger chance and leap from our “norm” to something more daring, or even what we normally do is modified by a new direction within the framework of our “normal”. Different POVs, unusual structures, lengths, settings, etc.—we go someplace new for us.

You might recall my post entitled “Perfection”. I’m always reminded of it when I hear of authors striving to improve—not wannabes mind you: published authors with contracts. Yes, as I said, we do desire to improve, but at some point we have to accept who we are. We are not someone else. Those who accept the writing “call”—who know in their very bones God has elected that they write—must come to the place where the simple fact tells them, “This is who you are. Quit trying to be someone you’re not.” Quit trying to conform to what someone else has decided is the way you must write. Someone else did not give you your call, your talent, or your direction. The Lord did. He wants your writing to ultimately yield to that specialized plan he has for you, and if you will do it, He will provide whatever is necessary to fulfill the plan. He will make sure you learn what you need to know, that the proper amount of groundwork is laid for your instruction, and that if you do as He has asked and assigned to you, “it” will work.

And, as a result, at some point, you must be satisfied and content. Trusting in His abilities and not your own. Who knows when that particular time in your life will come? Just know: at some point, it must.

Father, it’s here for me. I am in the process of becoming who you designed me to be. I want to be the woman you want me to be—more than anything else. So please keep me close to your heart, lead me in your ways everlasting and let me always hear your beautiful voice speaking Truth to me. Forgive me for my failings and sinful ways and restore me daily, precious Lord. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

*Please continue to pray for Kristy Dykes.*