The last few weeks I have really been struggling with writing.
Originally (once in the long ago) I had these grand visions of being a professional writer, of writing to change the world. This writing vehicle changed over the years: first it was this blog, then it was another blog, then it was writing a book, then writing (extremely) short stories. Always I kept thinking to myself that this time was it, this time I was going to do it.
Do what? I am not really sure at this point. Originally it was make an impact, then it was to build a following - a big, humongous following that would move me into the elites of on-line publishing. Finally, it was to simply become an author, to make my living by the (proverbial) pen.
None of those emerged, of course. My blog became one of millions lost in the flotsam and jetsam of the Internet. My forays into self-publishing paid my website fees for a couple of years, but ultimately sputtered out (to the point that I questioned whether the effort of writing was at all worth it). And my impact - that earth- shattering meteor-falling-out-of-the-sky event that I was going to set off - has never materialized.
So I went to God. I cried (some). I grumped (a lot). And I asked one question: "Should I still continue to write?"
The answer came back "Why are you writing?"
So I went through the list above, pointing to this and that, what I wanted to do and how I would do and gosh, if I would only get the chance I was going to do great things.
"It does not really sound like you are writing for me" came the response.
I stopped for a moment. And started to speak. And stopped again.
He was right, of course. I made my writing all about me: my impact, my hopes, my dreams, my aspirations. I liked to write about God, of course - but ultimately the reason I was writing was not about Him. It was about me.
So I have to make a few changes.
Not here, really. I will write because (truly) I love the exercise of writing. And it does do good, even if it just for me.
But I am surrendering any and all thoughts about this being any more than an exercise in faithfulness and an exercise of a gift I have given. I have one project I need finish, one last manuscript, and then I am done with that. It was fun. It taught me a lot. But it has become something I have imposed on myself, not something that I was lead to. And possibly it will lead to closing down the other blog as well. Ultimately I find my focus in more than one area is really difficult.
I do not know that this resolves my struggle. But at least it pushes things back into the right perspective. And that, perhaps, is the real reason for the struggle in the first place.