. . .even in writing. I’ve struggled over the last week about which direction to take. I’m sure you’ve never done that. Unfortunately I have the “gift” of indecision. Recent news that a publisher is now open to historicals, the genre I’ve spent years writing, thrilled me to the core. I dusted off a manuscript (not literally, of course)—complete mind you—but needed some revisions. But in order to take this project on, I’d have turn my attentions away from my current project—a fantasy. As I’ve trudged through each page of the historical, I’ve become increasingly dry and uninspired. I sooooo don’t want to do this. But hey, there is a new market and they’re not going to buy something that I don’t send them, right? I began to loath the piece and my writing has dwindled to nothing, because my heart is still in my fantasy story. Then it dawned on me, that wasn’t the direction the Lord had sent me. I once again fell into the trap of the world, striving to make things happen. Yes, it was strife I felt at having to hurriedly revamp something to be ready for the new opportunity.

But God had something better in mind.

While cooking dinner this evening I listened to my favorite Christian radio station and danced around as I stirred or reached for more spices. I love to watch my children dance as well and hope that I’m creating memories for them. It occurred to me that it would be wonderful to be a musician, say maybe play the electric guitar and worship the Lord. At any rate I totally got caught up in the worship and I thought, wait a minute—I’m a writer. I can certainly write for the Lord. And I’m the first one to have that idea, aren’t I?

And that is what it’s all about. Yes, I want to be published but nothing can come of my striving to achieve this, especially when God has clearly told us to seek first His kingdom. I’ve gone back to my original plan to finish my fantasy which has left me with peace, excitement and I’m once again inspired. And while I’m writing, it all flows from the heart to Him.

Then I realized that the gift that He’s given me. . .this thing called writing. . .can only fully flow through Him, and it only comes while I rest in His peace.