One week away from my blog and my book crept its way into two. Two weeks spiraled to three, and three stole into four. I’d taken breaks before but never quite like this. This felt different. This was different. My words had packed and gone away. Dried up, disappeared, vanished.
Was something wrong? Was this okay? It felt so unlike me.
Writing is not just my hobby; something I do on a whim just for fun. It’s my life. My joy. My calling. Thus my confusion when my words just stopped. When the voice in my head that speaks in pages went mute. When my heart (Motivation? Inspiration? Muse?) for writing went MIA.
Again and again I asked God what was this all about. If He could shed some light? Clue me in? Help me out? I could get back to work or enjoy a long rest with peace of mind and heart.
Weeks turned to months (gasp!) but God didn’t answer. I asked and I waited and life went on. Our family’s business and home building project continued to grow a little each day. I kept on schooling my oldest two despite the onset of summer. We worked hard. We played hard. My best friend moved 1,000 miles away.
All kinds of things were happening in and around me but this only added to my confusion. Usually my writing is how I work through things. It’s how I make sense of life. So why the silence? Why did my words just up and leave when I needed them the most?
It would be nice to say a breakthrough came like a fireworks display. But that wouldn’t be the truth, at least not quite.
God did speak one late summer day while I prayed and asked once more…
Me (for something like the thousandth time): God, I feel like there’s all this stuff going on inside me and yet I can’t put words to anything anymore. They’re in me somewhere, but I can’t find them. I just can’t get the words out.
God (finally): Dearest, it’s okay. I want you to write when you find you can’t keep the words in.
Oh my sweet Jesus! He always knows just what to say. He didn’t answer all my questions but in this little whisper of truth He gave me what I needed. Permission to wait and rest. Permission to fill up on all the things that make me burst with words.
Afternoons beside the lake
Golden haired girls with books in their hands
Teaching young minds
Reading good books
The dream of a house sitting real on a hill
The smell of hard work on his skin
The feel of her cheek against mine
Fall tinged days
“Fill up on these things,” He said. “Because filling on these things is filling on Me, and the words will come…”
This morning I heard it again. That voice inside my head. At first I didn’t even notice it as it scribbled out its pages. I was going through motions, just making my bed when suddenly I realized; it’s back! (And going on so nonchalant as if it never left.)
“God? Is it time?” I asked. But the voice kept chabbering on. I could feel His proud papa smile on me as He answered, “What do you think, dearest?”
So here I am, returned to this blog, to this little space in time. To this space created by little me to tell of His big love.
I’m not sure what the coming weeks and months and years will bring. Having just gotten my words back I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m afraid they’ll scamper off…
But outside the trees are starting to turn my favorite color of fall. Books are stacked all over my house, and dreams are all around me.
God is all over me. I’m full of Him and His spirit and no lack of anything can change that.
His mysterious ways while not always or completely understood are, in fact, always and completely perfect.
Writing feels like home.