As much as I’ve talked about writing, I haven’t written much this summer. I’ve been busy, as most of you are, too. I am the queen of organizing and multitasking, but my natural abilities seem to be impaired. Is it the three kids needing to be in different places several different times every day? Is it “working mom” guilt — if I were a good mom, I’d go to the pool with them/make signs for the lemonade stand/stop resenting the interruptions? Is it the stress of trying to be available and proactive to my clients when I’m really planning activities, running to the store, packing for short weekend trips, or breaking up sibling disagreements? Those factors certainly contribute to the situation, but I think my lack of writing is directly linked to the lack of solitude. When others are around all the time, I don’t stop and relax. I don’t pray like I should. I don’t focus on the quiet but extremely important pursuits.
Someone asked me once why I didn’t study writing in college. It’s because I didn’t have anything to say. I had opinions, but I didn’t have confidence that anyone would be interested in my thoughts. It wasn’t until I opened my heart to the Lord that I thought my words could matter to anyone else. It wasn’t until He inspired me that I wanted to share my soul with the world. When I’m walking with God, I find myself with much to say. He continually reveals things to me. It’s as though my eyes are wide open, the veil has been lifted, and I can see more clearly. Colors are more vivid. Sounds are more vibrant. Every activity, every observation, every experience imparts a spiritual lesson. I don’t have to search for them. They’re right there, practically written for me.
So I guess this lack of inspiration is proof of a painful reality. My relationship with God right now isn’t what it should be. I’m recycling my writing, foraging through old notes and files for something I can use again. When no words are coming out, there must be no words going in. When words aren’t going in, it’s because I’m not listening. When I’m not listening, it’s because I’m too busy. I’ve chosen to live in the secular world and not dwell in the secret place of the most High. I’m doing it on my own and without Him.
For me, writing is an act of faith. A hope and a belief that God will step in. If I offer myself as a vessel, He will speak, He will encourage, and He will inspire. He will have something to say, and I get to be a part of it. So I sit down to write tonight, knowing it’s the first step towards rebuilding the relationship I know I can have with Him. Knowing that even if I have nothing to say when I start, He will find the good and show it to me. Even in my weakness — especially in my weakness — He will shine. To God be the glory. Forever.