It's been ages since I posted here. I've been too busy with other writing and real life duties as a: therapeutic parent, counselor-in-training, band member, teacher, homeschool mom and many other responsibilities. I'm doing well now, though I was overwhelmed for a few months. I needed to drop a few things and balance the plate a little better so I had some time to write and to blog. I recently began working on a book I had on hold for a while---which leads me to this story:
When I was an awkward eleven and half year old, a smart-alek boy in my school walked up to me and whispered through grinning teeth, "Your epidermis is showing." I looked down at the hem of my skirt and around at my body for a few minutes until I realized he was attempting to provoke me. I rolled my eyes and walked away, all the while shaking my head in disgust. How dare he put me on the spot like that? Later I chuckled. It was kind of cute.I just couldn't believe I fell for it at first. How humiliating!
I've had many embarassing moments in my life: like the time in my teen years when I attended a youth conference with 7,000 other teenagers and my worn half-slip fell to my ankles right in front of a clump of sharp-looking 16ish year olds. With my puritanical type upbringing, humiliation became a familiar friend again. I walked right out of the slip and never looked back for fear that the shock on my face would provoke even more of a reaction from the boys. I ran up the steps to what I thought was the balcony and right straight into the mens' bathroom. My only option was to back out and run down the steps, right into the pack of boys I just left. Of course, that was not the last time that I felt the blood rising and my face flush as I or someone near me did something very, very embarassing. (Oh, trust me. All of my sons have found pleasure in finding ways to make a public scene at some point in time.)
Not too many years back, I sang on a worship team where suddenly the worship leader changed songs DURING the service. Good thing the projector crew was on top of it. The words were projected on the front and back walls for the worship team and congregation to both be able to view. I had forgotten my glasses and did not know the song at all. Since I grew up on stage, I figured I could fudge it well enough. I was right. I really fudged it, not as in faking it-pull-the-wool-over-their eyes-that-I-know-the-song kind of fudge but bigtime-make-a-fool-of-myself fudge.
The fatal line was "God is bigger than the biggest________________".
The blank was suppose to be filled by "canyon" but with my heavy but rare for me, New England accent bursting from the deepest parts of my inner nervous consciousness, I sang, "crayon" squarely into the microphone for three hundred people to hear. Can you say, "Awkward"?
So what is the point of this blabber about bloops and blunders? As I said, I've picked up writing again on a book I had on hold for a while. Honestly, I'm not the provokational type; I'm a peacemaker but this message includes some not-so-easy chunks to swallow.
"God, do you really mean for me to write this? This is not going to put me on the well-loved resources list." I prayed a few months back.
Don't get me wrong; it will not be condemning, but merely off the beaten path compared to what is out there. I sometimes wish it was someone else called to write it but the inspiration has not dissipated regardless of the time spent avoiding it. Write I must...but...but my epidermis is showing.
Do you ever write things that you feel in your heart of hearts that you are suppose to write but you know that the product may not contain the most desired message? How do you deal with the inner urgings to write things from your heart that may not be popular? Or how do you deal with writing the truths from the hidden places of your soul that you feel others may not be willing to say either? I've had this feeling when I shared my testimony a few times and when I've written a poem about something personal. Often, the writing when read, has stirred up someone's honest realization of things in his or her own heart that they might not have realized or it gives hope to someone going through a similar experience.
I pray that whatever I write, God will use it to touch hearts, change lives and inspire hope. If He wants me to also lovingly chide, well then, I must say "yes" to the call, though I dread it, in part. Can anyone relate? Or is all your writing pure pleasure to share with others?
Thank you for following my blog about writing. I hope to post more often on this page. If anyone is still a reader, thanks for being so patient. Please feel free to jump in the conversation and tell me about your writing journey. I'd love to hear from you.