So, at some point last year I got it into my head that I “deserve” to be a writer. And do you know why I “deserve” to be a writer?
Because I WANT to be a writer.
That’s right, friends: I have an overdeveloped sense of entitlement.
I’m going to be very frank right here. Sometime in the past year, as I tapped away at my keyboard and dreamed of days when I could wake up at 7:30 and watch a couple hours of the Today show while sipping leisurely on a cup of coffee, I missed the point.
The point of what? you ask.
I had decided that if I worked hard enough at my book, and if I did everything I was supposed to do, then I would definitely get to be a full time writer. Because if our Zip code has a battle cry, it’s “Live the American Dream or Die!” And I’ve noticed that sometimes, if someone doesn’t get what they want or what they’ve worked for, others around them begin to form lists of the things that person should have done differently.
I’m not saying this has happened to me – except that I do seem to have done it to myself. I keep thinking, “Why isn’t my book published yet? What should I have done differently? How could I have prevented this from happening?” When all along I know I worked MORE than hard enough on that manuscript.
And you know what I realized last week?
It’s not up to me. Anne Riley doesn’t run her own life. I claim to trust God for everything and I constantly say that I will go wherever he tells me to go, but really? I’m pretty sure that I’m in charge around here, and what I say goes.
What I’ve finally gotten my head around is this: I could write the greatest novel ever. It could just be dripping with potential for the publisher and everyone could absolutely adore it – but if God doesn’t want me to be a writer at this point in time, then It’s. Not. Going. To. Happen.
And whatever he’s got for me right now – that’s what I need to be focusing on.
In the words of Alannis Morrisette, that’s one jagged little pill to swallow.
So I guess you could say I’m struggling with contentedness right now. I have nothing to complain about. Not one thing. And yet I keep thinking, “Man, if only I could get published, life would be perfect.”
I’ll give you just a moment to digest all the problems with that statement.
Fortunately, I think God has given me a woman that is willing to “disciple” me, by which I mean I will hang out with her a lot and she will help me to grasp God’s goodness and faithfulness, and I really think God will use this to help me get back on track. Because I’ve been off track for a long time, and I’m really tired of it. It’s exhausting, trying to run your own life. You know what I mean?
Say a prayer for me, Readers. And have a great week!