Into the Fire

Maybe all writers don't consciously intend to author a masterpiece, but the ones I know all desire to write something meaningful. From humor to drama to western to contemporary, I don't know a single writer who doesn't work diligently to create something of value. Preferably, lasting value. To be remembered. Whether it be with a giggle or tears, a whimsical wish or an applicable hope, we want to leave a reader with a good memory for having invested in what we wrote.

Masterpiece might be grandiose, but sometimes when we really feel the anointing to write a story, when we're done with the process, it feels like our hearts touched that place reserved for reverent experiences.

I suppose most of us appreciate certain artists and their paintings or sculptures whether or not they are identified as The Masters of old. Will some contemporary artists eventually belong to their esteemed grouping? Impossible to know. You can bank on the fact that each one sets out to wow whoever views their work – and of course to satisfy his soul.

We writers in the faith can understand the source of our creativity and the pleasing nature of our dedication to fulfilling our callings. I suspect the Lord takes far more pleasure from our determination to be obedient to His instruction than we realize. And I assume He enjoys the finished work dedicated to Him with gratitude.

I admit I long to compose a novel which some might call a masterpiece, but I doubt I ever will. I'll settle for pleasing the Lord and a few readers along the way of my journey here.

Father, thank you for the privilege of writing stories. Thank you for the inspiration that I can't find anywhere else but from you. Thank you for your generosity when I don't deserve it. And of course I'm desperate for you. And thank you is never, ever enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.