What
do you do when you believe God has called you to a vocation and you engage in
all manner of ‘good’ things instead of that which you are called to? 'Good', as
in necessary everyday activities like three sets of tax returns, including your
recently deceased parents’ final return, and any number of things – wash dishes,
cook, do yard work, work on estate processes, spend time with family… What do
we do when we know we should be spending time and energy on activities we are
beckoned to do by that quiet voice we have come to trust as God’s?
Confess
with a sincere heart, move on, and get down to it. And so I confess:
I
am a writer. I believe God has called me to it and He did so after I searched
for the creativity that exists in each of us. We who are created in the image
of God have a spark of The Creator in us. I searched for mine after giving up
on the notion that I was creative on the basketball court. While that may have
been so, if the divine creativity for me was that of an athlete I would be
writing this as a former NBA player, or at least that is how I see it.
I
did a lot of business writing for the phone factory and was well thought of for
my efforts. White papers, business cases, reports, and all sorts of
communications that paved the way for me to have a nice little career.
I hadn’t started my search for the creative
spark at the time but when a student ministries director asked me to do the
writing for the church’s monthly newsletter, I took to it and enjoyed the
outlet. I wrote about our youth activities and what was coming up and did some
pieces about the depth of our mission trips and camps. What I really loved
doing was zeroing in on a particular person and writing a story about him or
her and what I found special about them. I could and did write from the heart
on those occasions and they were the ones that touched people. My mom and
mother-in-law were my biggest supporters in this and they carried it over once
I heard the call to write creatively.
I
am not a good writer and I feel this way for several reasons. I do not do it
consistently enough to say I have a writer’s life but I wish that I could claim
that I have such a life. My work needs a lot of editing and I need to learn the
craft more completely. I write some good pieces here and there but nothing that
has been published outside of my own blogs or social media outlets. Some of
that has to do with me lacking the confidence to believe the piece is worthy of
printing and some of it has to do with me lacking a tough inner shell to
withstand the common practice of writers to collect rejection letters.
I
completed a novel a couple years ago but it has been left idol. It is the book
I believed I was urged to write by the Author of our Faith and yet I cannot
bring myself to rewrite it as it desperately needs. The book needs to be cut it
in half if there is any hope in having a publisher even look at it. The story
is mortally out of date due to my delays and I need to refigure the timeline
and at least bring it up to the point where it touches on the pandemic.
All
of this falls short of a legitimate excuse for falling short of having a
writer’s life, one meant to touch the hearts of at least one person with each
piece I publish. For all of this, I am sorry and will rekindle my efforts.
I am a writer. My best of friends Mike and Jim say so. Mike even puts ‘Writer’ as my occupation when he uses me as a reference when he is job seeking. Mike is a professional editor so it must be true that I am a writer. Jim is my coach and he tells me how touched he is when he reads my work. He was key in showing me the error in a short story I have now submitted several times to start my collection of rejections, so it must be true that I am a writer.
Ani is a
published writer, has a master’s in fine arts (MFA) Degree, and is an
entrepreneur. She took a short story I wrote almost on a whim for the family
and put it in a picture book for us. My mom had me autograph her copy, so it
must be true. I guess this means I need to retract my earlier statement that I
have not be published outside of my own media resources.
What
led to me writing this confession was Phil talking to the men on our Zoomeeting
the other morning and telling the group what a good writer I am and how he
appreciates the works that I put up. Having spent that morning in the presence
of the Holy Spirit, I was uplifted, touched, and convicted all at the same
time. Phil is a published writer himself, so it must be true.
Thus,
I must confess that I fall short of God’s call to me.
I
looked on the back of a piece of intarsia my late father did for me and he
said, “Together in His grip, love Dad”. And so I’ll sign off on this confession
as I frequently sign off on my Calvary's Thread posts.
In
His grip,
jerry
