Into the Fire

I believe in self-discipline. I'm just not terribly good at it. I have a tendency to learn the hard way through the mistakes I make – many of them due to being stubborn about certain things. 

Writing is not something I can control or order. Yes, I know: there are those skilled authors who stake their claims on certain writing periods per day, consistently devoted to their schedules. Those authors advocate for these reserved times dedicated to their creative writing. 

I'm so far removed from that I can't even imagine it. Nor do I want to. Seat-of-the-pants writer that I am, spontaneous creativity, "undisciplined" if you prefer: that's me. But don't mistake that for not being dedicated to my work. It's a simple case of being unable to force it. And practicing that kind of writing will only produce drivel, meandering gibberish. 

That's my Monday confessional. So be it. 

Father, I thank you for every moment you lead me to writing words. I treasure them. Apart from you, I can do nothing. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.