As I sit, my mind fills with words. Words of life, joy and questioning. Words of what I wish life could be. Words of whys and hows and what is next. Words that burn the life deep inside of me. These words are my fuel for living. They are a gift from above; a deep and true gift. They fill me, complete me, and make me in whole in so many ways.
If this is all so, then why do i forsake them? Why do I ignore them? Why do I feel selfish when I want to sit and put them upon a page where they ultimate belong; why? Why do I take my gift from God and hide it and tuck it away for a day when I am in an ultimate meltdown or a day when I have fully lost every piece of me but that tiny spark, a word inside my heart? Why?
I want to write and write and write everyday. Yet I feel like I should have a job where I help people instead. I think I should fill every minute of my life with helping. But I had a thought as I walked into my local coffee shop, “What if my writing is what will touch the souls? What if it will lead them into a deeper walk with Christ? What if it will help their heart heal? What if I have this gift for a deeper reason than simply fulfilling the urgency inside?”
Now how do I begin to do this? I believe it is a discipline, making myself write everyday. Taking a day to write, a day to enjoy nature, but still making time for those things that most inspire me, or I should say the people that most inspire me; my family and friends.
I believe it is balancing my life in a healthy and real way. And maybe, just maybe if I can begin to do this, then I will become me and be completely free.