There was a time, long ago, when I loved to write. Writing was a sort of release. The one thing I was certain I could do right. Even as I wrote about things that I would rather not, I enjoyed the process. The idea that there was a blank page that would only become full because of my ideas. Ideas that someone would read and enjoy. And then, panic set in. It wasn’t an all at once thing. It was little by little over such a long period of time that I cannot say for certain when my joy turned to fear. Fear that no one would enjoy what I had to say. Fear that I was being too bold with my words. Fear that I would alienate too many people with the things I knew I would say if I sat down to write. When I was in grad school last year, for as much as I loathe academic writing, especially the kind I had to engage in there, I was relieved that I had so many constraints. That I couldn’t offend with my ideas, only how I synthesized someone else’s. And that was somehow less dangerous to me. And then, on Wednesday, I read this devotional. It talked about how we so often quit things before God has allowed them to reach their full potential. And it was as if it had come directly from God’s mouth to my heart. And writing was the first thing I thought of. I’ve been planning to write a book for as long as I can remember. Literally. If I weren’t such a purger, I’m certain I’d find the beginnings of books I’d planned to finish from elementary school. But, I also recognized that I couldn’t go from work emails and casual Facebook posts to novel overnight. So, I made a plan to write a blog post on Friday. And then I pushed it to Saturday. But then I became so overwhelmed by the idea, that I hid it beneath a list of errands and chores that HAD to be done before I could do something as “recreational” as writing. And so I did them. I did them all. And as I was praying before my shower tonight, after planning to push this off for another day, God spoke to my heart once again with this verse:
“H who is faithful in what is least is faithful also in much; and he who is unjust in what is least is unjust also in much.” Luke 16:10
And so, I took it literally. 10 minutes, God. That’s the least I can put in on any given day. I can give you 10 minutes every single day, until You decide I’m ready for a novel. And here we are. It may be that no one reads these. It may be that everyone does. But truly, I’m writing for an audience of One. So here are my 10 minutes for today. See you tomorrow.