Writing as Destiny

Now, it's time to get serious. Do you believe me? Do I believe me?

What I'm going to try to do here (in case anyone out there is following this blog like a story, like a series of writings that are actually connected day by day) - I'm going to transition into a thoughtful, less playful topic.

So here's my problem. I have a seriously serious side. Truly, I do. But even that facet is laced with tinges of humor. Is that contradictory? Ummm... No. It's the way my Father created me.

And He created me to be creative. Is that redundant? Ummm... No. In His creativity, He imparted His innovative, spontaneous wonder-filled nature to this little creature. He gave a special gift of His love. He gave writing. He gave words. He gave innovative, spontaneous, wonder-filled combinations of words.

I don't boast. (I hope, I don't. Maybe I do.) I'm often as surprised by what I write as those who read my pieces. When I read over past writings, I sometimes say, "Wow, that's good stuff!" Like someone else wrote it. And someone else (and I) did write it.

What I'm trying to say is that I couldn't write without the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, God's indwelling presence-of-Jesus, in my life. It started with the first Adam, when God breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and he became a living being, the first creature made in His own image, one with the capacity for relationship with Him.

When He breathed life into me, He conferred creativity in a shape never seen before, never to be seen again. Because of that special breathing, because of God's desire for me to be intimately connected to Him, I feel compelled to keep writing, to combine words over and over again into the shape of my life, into the unveiling of my relationship with Him. My destiny, the purpose for which He created me, lies in writing my heart out. (Get it? Writing my heart out.)

So you see, I can be serious. Thoughtful and serious. Oh, but I must give credit to KL Knight for helping me think about (be thoughtful and serious about) this topic last night at the Psalm 45:1 gathering. Afterward, we were discussing the coming and goings of our writing seasons. And I discovered the fragility of my identity apart from writing. Hence, I needed to write about it, tonight.

I thank my Abba-Father that He's not conflicted or in need of bolstering about who He made me. I am delighted that He's always closer than a whisper to inspire me with the person of Jesus, with His desire to speak the Word of life to me, then through me. I thank Him for my destiny.

NG