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I’ve been struggling with writing lately. I’ve never really considered myself a writer, but I’ve always wanted to be one. Not that I’m a good writer, but I typically enjoy writing. I’ve always wanted to write. Somewhere, somebody has copies of “books” that I wrote as a young child. Various aptitude tests have pegged me as a writer. I have three unfinished novels and several incomplete other works of fiction. I start great, but I don’t finish great.

My wife doesn’t want to be a writer nor to write. However, she is in the editing stage of her first book. It’s fabulous. It’s not a work of fiction, but a commentary on certain passages of scripture. It’s a work that I would file under the “When Grappling with Divine Thought” heading on my ink well page. I’ve read it and have given her some notes per her request. I admit, I’m a little jealous. While I’m the one who wants to write, she is the one whom the Lord is currently allowing write.

What does that last sentence mean? Does it mean that I can’t write without the Lord’s permission or blessing? Does it mean He won’t physically permit me to write? No and no. What it means is I don’t want to write unless it’s from the Lord’s life. I don’t want to write out of my own strength. While I can physically write, and I have plenty of ideas about which to write, they will have no value if Lord isn’t the source from which the writings come. Right now, I would be the source. They would all be my ideas and my effort. Bridget’s book is the Lord’s idea and His effort. Big difference.

In harmony with generally struggling to write, I’ve had a hard time writing for this blog. While I believe there is a lot of it that is the Lord’s idea and His effort, there is still a lot of it that is mine. My ideas and my effort. What value does that have? Very little in the world and even less in God’s kingdom. Since I don’t really care what the world thinks, I’m really only concerned with God’s kingdom. And in His kingdom, the only thing that matters is Christ. His ideas and His efforts.

So, recently, I asked the Lord about it. Here’s a reenactment:

Me (head in hands): Lord, why write?

Lord: Because I asked you to.

Me (head still in hands): To whom? Who’s my audience?

Lord: Write to Me. I’m your audience.

Me (head lifted up): How do I do that? You know everything about me.

Lord: Just write. I’ll take care of it.

Well, ok. I’ll just write to You, Lord. You said You’d take care of it. So this is me writing to You.

I’ve had this “directive”, if you will, from the Lord for two years now: Write. It was actually for both my wife and me. I haven’t been the most faithful to that directive. But He is Ever-Faithful. That’s His name; that’s who He is: Ever-Faithful. Now He’s added to it: Write to Me. He is Ever-Faithful, and He’ll take care of it. I just have to write to Him.

I still don’t know exactly what it means to write to Him, nor do I know exactly how it will look. It probably wouldn’t look how I imagined it, anyway. He rarely looks how I imagine Him. So, I’ll just write.

Wanna come along for the ride? There’s no telling where we’ll end up. It might not be safe. I’m not entirely sure He’s safe…

Safe?…Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you. C.S. Lewis, 'The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe'

But You are good, Lord. And the King. I write to You.

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