Thirteen months. It has been thirteen months since my last blog post. Thirteen months since I let a day pass without writing…then two..then a week…then 2012 is halfway over and not a single thing has been written! THIRTEEN MONTHS!
Truth be told, I set out to be perfect. I wanted to write a post every day, each week, all year long. I have several amazing girlfriends with far more children and responsibilities than I who are able to wax poetic daily. They don’t simply write posts; they inspire, they encourage, they are consistent.
I love to write. Since I was a young girl, words have gripped me in inexplainable ways. I will choose a book over a movie anytime. Something about putting thoughts to paper has always brought great joy and focus to my heart. I don’t claim to be a brilliant writer by any means. Writing is simply the venue the Lord has given me to sort my own thoughts and analyze my life experiences. When faced with a blank page and words begin flowing, all the madness of life seems to fade and for a brief while, the scrambled things come into focus. Many times, the Lord has brought words and passages to mind in the midst of writing that He would use to work in me later on. So much of my writing during Isaac’s life was words He would give in the midst of writing sessions to later use in ministering to my weary heart. Its nothing that I have earned nor take credit for. Its just the way He has wired me.
So here’s the thing: As I said, I want to be perfect. Not to impress or gain attention but to accomplish every goal I set. Since I was young, I’ve had an innate desire to get it right every time, all the time. To set a goal and fully achieve it. Type A, anyone?! So when I set out to be a consistent blogger, I was gung-ho. Posts were flowing, lessons being learned and in need of sharing if for not other reason than to record His workings for myself. But then it happened. A day would go by, then a few. Writers block would creep in and suddenly I was faced with inconsistency. My pride bruised from imperfection. One would logically think, “Just pick up where you left off and keep on writing.” But no. It turned into anxiety, embarrassment. I couldn’t just write any post. It must be epic! Profound. Worth the loss of days. As each day passed, my self-inflicted pressure continued to rise. Thirteen months later…
This is but one of countless examples in my life that has caused me to face my frailty head on. How often I strive for perfection, to have everything all together, all the time, on my own. Were I truly honest, it is a struggle that has impacted my walk with the Lord. I fail and my natural response is embarrassment, discouragement, inaction. At its core, isn’t that the human experience? In the Garden, Eve desired to be like God by eating the fruit, to become perfect. Yet once she sinned, rather than running to the arms of the One who loved her most, she hid in shame. We seek to be complete and self-fulfilling all on our own, as if we will impress God with our “grandeur”. Yet every ability, every gifting, every good and perfect thing to be found in us ultimately comes by His generous hands.
It may seem like a silly issue, inconsistent writing, but it has been a simple lesson on a greater issue for me. The Lord desires my communion with Him, not perfection of my own accord. After all, I will NEVER be perfect. ‘Tis the human condition: broken and in need of a Redeemer. So whether it be a large life issue or simply a blip in the blogosphere, He is teaching me to move ahead. Lay down the discouragement and press onward, further knowing my desperate need of Him and His gracious delight in me.
So here’s the thing: I won’t be perfectly consistent in writing. I will set goals and sometimes fail in achieving them. Writers block may come and go. But when the words do come again, rather than being silent out of my shame of inconsistency, I will simply pick up my pen and scribe again. After all, anything of merit in my words comes from Him. I simply want to be faithful in expressing what He has given.
A Life Of Patience 