For When The Noise Drowns You Out and You've Made an Idol of Your Writing {Again}

“I’m a little pencil in the hand of a writing God, who is sending a love letter to the world.”--Mother Theresa

I can get so lost in how low the number of readers are or so preoccupied with my own worries and fears--you know the ones--

What would this side think of my writing, what would folks of this belief think, what if I lose readers if I write what I really feel, can I be vulnerable, how honest should I be, and one of the worst questions that plagues my mind at times: What is the point of writing when there are so many more that say it better and reach many more than I do?

And then I think this writing thing of mine will never go anywhere. I get disappointed, an unhealthy self-pity and hedonism sets in, and then anger holds my heart in its tight grip. In searching for myself and my happiness as a writer, as an artist, and co-creator with God, I forget the God that imparts the poetry and breathes life into my weary bones. I start to think it's all about me.

And then, suddenly, like a slow dawning, an awakening, my eyes are opened, and I see myself thinking about myself too much--in one flash of a moment, my mind is completely clear, I have His mind, and I can see myself through his lens.

I have wrestled with this writing thing, oh, how I've wrestled. There were entire days I just stayed in my pajamas, barely ate, and wasn't present with my kids because I was so engrossed in my writing, and I was steeped in unhealthy habits that had been rutted out during three years of ill health.

I felt so guilty for my need to create, to have something of my own, and I've struggled to find balance between the nurture of art and relationship. I've felt at times that God's greatest calling for me was raising my girls and oh yes, it is, and who will be there for them if not I? But then, my heart screams back, why did God make me with this wild desire to create? 

A young woman at a retreat a couple months ago asked me why I started writing, started blogging. My tongue got heavy in my mouth and in slow-motion, I said to her, "I don't really know, is the real answer" I went on to tell her who and what had inspired me, but the true thing about it all, was, I really didn't know, and I still don't.

I wrote a couple of pretty good posts after that, and people related well and they got way more attention than I possibly ever thought, and I was grateful.

But then the tide changed. 

{Friends, I'm at Bibledude today. Would you follow me over there for the rest of this story? I would love for you to tell me in the comments there how you've struggled in writing. If you have a question, please ask. Let's wrestle this thing out together. } (((Thank you))) 

**Don't forget, Ruth Povey will be leading the charge and guest-hosting Concrete Words Monday, July 1st. Come link up on our prompt, the Tainted.

This post shared with Jennifer for #TellHisStory Emily for Imperfect Prose, Michelle DeRusha