The idea was overdone, the feeling was stilted or cliche. Nothing was flowing. I felt dead.
Then, I went where I always go when I get stuck and brain-dead in the literary realm.
Alex. My peppy, vivacious, beautiful, and God-centered Floridian clone. The Jane to my Lizzie, the Elinor to my Mary-Anne.
She asked me two questions: who do you write for? And why do you write in the first place?
At first, I thought: "I write because my brain is a jumbled mass of words, thoughts, and dreams." But then, I realized.
I write because I'm a writer.
And I write for Him.
And I write for you, my beloved friends. I write my own sorrows so that you can know that someone out there is grieving with you -- you're not alone. I rejoice with you; my words paint pictures of my delight in your strength and joy. I want to flood you with thoughts of love and encouragement; I want you to know that you have someone who loves you more than you will ever know, and who prays for you on a regular basis.
There are times when I feel completely foolish, prattling away to some imaginary listener who may or may not even be there. And then I realize...
...I don't write for accolades or some sort of praise. I don't even know if anyone sees these words I write, except for God, and honestly, that's fine by me. I write to glorify Him. I write to worship Him. I write His words.
Because that's who I am.
A writer.
You write in words that are musical without notes. Someday the thoughts and meaning will be put to music like Mark "Bubeck". Even if not put to music, they will sing in my heart. We do not have to be Queen Victoria but we can still live out the over comer qualities you tell that she displayed. Be a wordsmith, Rachel! With Excellence.
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