30 Days of Thankfulness in Writing – Day 7: No Writing Wednesdays

It’s easy to focus on the negative in the world around us. In observation of a month many dedicate to counting their blessings, I’ve started a 30-day challenge in which I’ll focus on one aspect of my writing life for which I am thankful. I’d love to have you join by sharing about something that has blessed your own writing life in the comments section below. - Jen

Wednesdays are the hardest day of the week for me to get any real writing done. My day starts with me heading out the door at 7 to meet with a couple of the high school students from my youth group. After that I spend the next eight hours sitting at a desk. If I’m lucky, I run home for 30 minutes to grab a quick bite to eat and then it’s off to Youth Group, which I am currently leading. Come 9 o’clock I’m usually pretty brain dead. Once I walk through the door all I want to do is put on my jammies and zone out for a little while before conking out.

Wednesdays are also the most rewarding day of the week. I get to spend a good portion of my day interacting with an amazing group of young men and women. It’s such an incredible blessing having the opportunity to be a part of their lives — to be trusted with their confidences.  And it’s not just on Wednesdays I have that blessing either. They contact me all throughout the week with updates, questions, and prayer requests.

Occasionally a group of them will call me up on the weekend and want to hang out outside of youth activities. We’ve spent Saturdays at a park climbing over the jungle gyms. We’ve followed long dusty trails along rapid flowing creeks. We’ve spent afternoons combing through new book titles. We’ve also gotten more than a few stares from Toys ‘R Us employees. (OK. I suppose it does look odd for a 29 year old to get THAT excited about a new Lego set, but can you blame me?) And as I type this, I got a text inviting me to one of my student’s 16th birthday parties this weekend. I don’t know if that makes me cool, or just really odd.

All of this is a roundabout way of saying I am thankful for my youth. Their excitement is infectious. It inspires me. And so much of what I write in my fiction has stemmed from my interactions from them. Rarely a week goes by without them asking about my work in progress. They think it’s so cool that their youth leader is trying to get a book published that is targeted to their age group. (You’d think there wasn’t anything available for them, but it’s also a huge ego boost for me when I’m wrestling with a stubborn scene.)

Best of all are Wednesdays like yesterday where I had the privilege of witnessing the spiritual awakening and rebirth of a 12-year-old girl. The image of the peace and joy shining from her eyes will stick with me for a long time.

I have a quote by Thoreau above my desk that reads: How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.

No Writing Wednesdays are the perfect reminder of that.

Walking on Water

“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” Matt 14:28

Growing up in Sunday School, I became very familiar with stories about David fighting Goliath, Jonah and the Great Fish, Daniel in the lion’s den, and Jesus feeding the multitude with two loaves and a fish. I loved imagining what it would be like if I’d been one of those people; if I’d seen what they’d seen, or done what they’d done.

I particularly liked to hear about Jesus walking out on the stormy sea towards a boat tossed about in the angry squall. What would it be like to walk on water, I wondered. Would I have stepped out like Peter? I was convinced that if I had, I would never have sunk though.

I happened across this passage again a couple weeks ago, and as I read it I could picture Peter standing with his hands on the rail, prepared to step over the side regardless of Jesus’ reply. He was ready to do the impossible.

It’s funny, when the story is told more emphasis is placed on Peter becoming distracted by the waves, sinking, and calling out for help. We focus on the fact that Jesus reached out immediately and pulled him up, indicating that God is always there to rescue his children, but we fail to realize that it doesn’t say Jesus ran to him and saved him. Peter was already near enough to be grabbed, which indicates he had walked quite a ways from the boat by that point.

History remembers the the names of those who step out of the boat. We know there were other disciples on board that night, but we don’t know how many, or specifically, which ones. Peter is the only one mentioned by name.

The same is true of war memorials. We remember those who risked all, not those who ran from the battlefield or stayed home. Marie Currie is remembered for exploring an anomaly on a piece of film placed on a rock, and for her subsequent work with radiation. The list goes on.

Dreams are just that…dreams…vapors in the night. That is, until we take the steps to turn them into reality. It requires courage, determination — and a bit of insanity. Notice that even after Peter got out of the boat and stood solidly on the sea, not a single person present attempted join him.

I have a song from Kutless I like to listen to when I’m struggling with decisions to stay still or move forward. It has a line that says, “It doesn’t matter what you’ve heard, impossible is not a word. It’s just a reason for someone not to try.”

When Jesus pulled Peter up and asked him “Why did you doubt?” it’s important to remember, he wasn’t chastising him for believing that if he got out of the boat he could walk forward through the massive waves, he was telling him not to become distracted by what was going on around him and to focus instead on his final destination.

I want to encourage you to do the same with your writing. Don’t be one of the nameless men on the boat. If you have been blessed with being given story to tell, step forward boldly. Don’t let anyone else distract you with tales of the impossibility of being published. Don’t become discouraged when your manuscript comes back with more red than black. Learn. Grow. And always remember: Even though writing is largely a solitary endeavor, you’re never alone. There will always be someone nearby to reach out a hand and pull you back up if you do begin to sink.

Writing through a broken heart

On Thursday evening I received a text from my cousin who was expecting her third child. She was on her way to the hospital. While at her checkup earlier in the day they discovered the baby’s heart was no longer beating. This was the second time in as many years she was facing this tragedy. A few hours later I learned another member of my cousin’s family lost her baby the same day. This morning I woke to the news a fellow Craftsman and a woman I love dearly lost her own precious baby. Three babies in three days. And my heart is breaking for each one.

In the past few months I’ve watched four young mothers begin the grieving process when they should have been planning baby showers, picking out names, and cooing over ultrasound images. As a friend, my heart breaks because all I can do is sit with them and as a writer, my gift of words has failed me. What can I say in a time like this? I’ve yet to experience the excitement of discovering I carry new life within me. So how can I even begin to fathom the heartache knowing I’ll never hug that child or hold my breath as he climbs trees that barely support his weight or as she puts on her first “ball gown” and dances around the room on her daddy’s toes.

We all handle grief in our own ways and I’ve found great solace in writing. In this, I am not alone. The longest and most quoted book in Scripture are the Psalms of King David. It’s his journal. In one entry he cries out in anguish in another he sings his Lord’s praises. He questions, he doubts, he struggles, he finds comfort in his faith, and most of all he rests in the arms of One whose strength knows no limits.

What I find most healing in journaling through grief is that I can be completely open and honest with my feelings. I don’t have to put on a brave face for others. If I want to scream, I scream. If I need to cry, I cry. And it never matters how many times I repeat the same words over and over. Journaling also has a calming effect. It helps gives my tumultuous emotions a channel so they don’t overwhelm me. There have been many times I’ve fallen asleep while writing on nights I otherwise would have tossed and turned until dawn.

I’ve also discovered that some of my greatest insights have come in journaling through my darkest hours. Some of those entries have served as the basis for articles that have helped others who are struggling with the same trials and brokenness.

God promises to work all things for the good of those who love Him, but in moments like these it can be all but impossible to see what good that could be. When my cousin lost her Angel baby last year, it nearly crushed her. But in the year since I’ve watched a tighter connection grow between her husband and their two children. She rediscovered her faith, and she developed some amazing friendships with other women who were also struggling with loss. I hate watching her go through this again so soon. And I  hate seeing my other friends struggling with questions of WHY. At the same time I am anxiously watching to see how their stories turn out, because I am confident that the Author of their lives has already writen them a happy ending.

The encouragement card that led to a week of pondering

The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives. Though they stumble, they will never fall, for the Lord holds them by the hand. Ps. 37:23-24

I have an amazing friend and accountability partner in Xochi. We met at a writer’s conference a couple years ago and hardly a week has gone by since without us talking in some form or another. This week I came home and found a card from her with the above verse in my mailbox. Her note was simple, just letting me know she was thinking of me and praying for me and for everything going on in my life at the moment. Handwritten notes are so rare these days I treasure each of them and tuck them away. The verse, however, has stuck with me all week, particularly the line “[God] delights in every detail of their lives.” When I read it, I instantly thought of the many people who inhabit my little world.

Each of them, including the not so likeable ones, holds a special place in my heart. I know everything about them. I know their pet peeves. I know what would break their hearts. I know which flower is Chantay’s favorite. I know where Philly likes to go when he wants to disappear for while. Most importantly, I know their dreams and aspirations. One thing I’ve discovered as a writer is that even though I can see the outcome of each choice my characters will make, and I even though I can try to steer them towards the correct path, I cannot control them. Every time I’ve tried, they’ve rebelled. My writing stalls, and until I back off a bit and let them follow their own course, we get nowhere. And these are just fictional characters, copies of the real thing. How much more stubborn are we?

I’ve pondered throughout the week at the similarities between how God interacts with us and how we interact with the individuals in our books. It’s a shadow of a comparison, to be sure, but knowing how often I say, “Don’t go there! Look this way!” only to be ignored I wonder if God ever smacks his forehead and sighs Will she ever learn?

Fortunately for me, the author of my life is infinitely more patient than I could ever be with any of my creations. He never gets flustered. Never scratches out scenes to rewrite over and over. And He never walks away from His work in progress. He stands right next to me as I try to make sense of my life, and of the stories I’ve been given to write. And when I mess up, He brushes me off and tells me to keep trying.

Xochi may not have realized it at the time she wrote her note, but it came on a day I particularly needed a word of encouragement. It said exactly what I needed to hear, even though I didn’t quite realize it at the time. So, now if you’ll excuse me, I have a couple of encouragement cards of my own to write and send out this morning....

–Jen 

The Writer’s Dream

Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed. Prov. 16:2

I can’t speak for everyone, but sometimes I think we tend to view God like one the gods of Olympus — as a self-important man sitting on his throne watching, waiting for us to slip up so he can laugh at our folly and drive us further into the mud. We question our every action, wrestle with each decision, terrified we’re going to choose poorly.

Shouldn’t it be the opposite? Ours is a God of creation. Not destruction. Though He offers us guidelines in how we should live, when it comes to certain decisions, such as which opportunities we should pursue, he simply leaves it up to us.

I have to be honest. I tend to overly obsess about whether a project I’m about to embark on is God’s will or mine. Will I use the right words? Will my point get across? Will anyone even like it? I get so worried about making a mistake I become too terrified to step out. I use that fear as a crutch, as an excuse to stay in one place. Better to stand still and be miserable than try, fail, and disappoint others or — more specifically — myself. Somehow I doubt that’s what God has in mind for me. In fact, I believe I’ve been looking at things all wrong for far too long now.

If I’m truly passionate about something could it be because it’s already been “approved”? Could it be that I have these dreams because God placed them in my heart the day He spoke me into existence? A friend of mine recently shared that our dreams aren’t just ours — they’re God’s. They aren’t meant solely for our pleasure, but for the blessing of others as well. Taking that to its logical conclusion, if I refuse to pursue a dream because of fear I could very well be depriving someone else of a blessing.

So when Solomon says to commit to the Lord whatever I do, he’s not saying I need to approach God like a broken beggar asking for permission to move forward; he’s saying I need to give back to the Lord what is already his. To take the focus off of me and my expectations. To trust that what God has promised to do through me will be done. And then go to work. The dream won’t be realized overnight. It may take years of hard work, patience, and perseverance, but if there’s one thing that I can be sure of it’s this: God’s plans never fail and I am in good hands.

Unexplored Territory

“When you see the ark of the covenant of the Lord your God, and the priests, who are Levites, carrying it, you are to move out from your positions and follow it. Then you will know which way to go, since you have never been this way before.” Joshua 3:3-4

There are times I wish God still spoke to us in an audible voice, met us with specific directions, or just gave us something tangible like the Ark to follow into new territory. It’s so much more difficult stepping out in faith, hoping you’re making the right decisions. Worse, is sitting still in fear and indecision.

Writing is a passion. It’s an integral part of who I am. If I’m not writing a story or working on an article, I’m thinking of one. I get distracted by ideas while walking, have heated discussions with people who don’t exist, and I’ve wandered into fairyland on more than one occasion while I was supposed to be listening to someone speaking to me.

Writing is a gift God blessed me with, and it’s one I want to use to the best of my ability. But then come the doubts. A project I’ve poured my heart into gathers dust on a shelf. Another rejection letter appears in my mailbox. A chapter disappears from my file and none of my numerous backups have the most recent version. When coupled with the stress of every day life — health of family and friends, finances, uncertainty in a rocky economy — it’s enough to make anyone question, “Am I going in the right direction?”

This morning I was reminded of another man who pressed himself to do the work he’d been called to, but who in a moment of frustration fled to the desert ready to give everything up. I’ve always admired Elijah, not because of the miracles God did through him, but because of his faithfulness in situations that would cause most people to crack under the pressure. With the exception of this one recorded case, he was constantly moving forward doing the work God set out for him to do.

When Elijah fled Jezebel after a great victory for the Lord, God led him to the mountaintop (1 King 19). Elijah was exhausted; he felt isolated, and despite all God had done for him and through him, useless. And so he waited on that mountaintop for God to pass by and speak to him. First came the great wind, then the earthquake, followed by a fire. Yet God was in none of those. Instead, He came in the form of a gentle whisper.

I realized that while I’ve been looking for God to send me major road signs and events to direct me, he’s been using simple markers instead through encouraging words from friends, unexpected writing opportunities, and in the blessings that come when I ’m able to help others in their own journeys, whether with writing or in life.

I may not have sold a best seller yet. I may never see more than a few extra dollars here or there for my work. But that’s really not why I write to begin with. It isn’t success or achievements God is looking for — it’s simple faithfulness. Am I willing to trust Him enough to lead me safely through unknown territory, Ark or no Ark? And can I set my own demands and expectations aside long enough to hear Him when he gently whispers directions to my heart?