Days like this are common for me. Whether I am writing, playing my violin, getting impatient with my siblings, something always happens that makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs. (Ok, I know the title sounds more like a tantrum, but really, I don't mean that.)
I said this once before: I have always wanted to be a writer, even when I was little.
There is one problem.
I get too frustrated with myself.
Ugh. I throw down my pencil, my brain all jumbled. What seemed like great ideas suddenly lost their grandeur. I turn up my nose in disgust. I'll never make a writer! My story suddenly seems lame, poorly written, even ludicrous. I read and reread the story and can't seem to be satisfied. I do know I'm not being overly particular because my writing does seem...what's the word? Juvenile. I haven't had much experience, well, hardly any at all, so I shouldn't expect to write an elegant-sounding novel right off the bat. But, if you could just read my writing...
Tears would probably be running down your cheeks in rivulets and laughter choking your words. Ha.Ha. Very funny.
I guess I shouldn't become so discouraged. God made me according to every detail He had set down from the very beginning. If I ever write a book or publish a story, that is totally up to Him. He has given us all different gifts according to the grace He has granted us. (Romans 12:6-8) Therefore, we are to use those gifts to the best of our ability "with cheerfulness."
Remember, we are human and cannot do anything perfect. What is impossible with us is completely possible with God. (Luke 1:37; 18:27)
Isn't is awesome that we have such an almighty and majestic God who is in control of all things?
Whether I ever publish a book or not, all the glory and praise belongs to God alone. On my own I could do nothing. It is only by His Holy Spirit working in me that I "can do all things." (Philippians 4:13)
I give everything that I am, and everything I have ever done or will do, to Christ alone.
Haven't I said before that writing helps me work out my own problems? After I put down my thoughts down, things don't seem to be so bleak.
Now, where did that pencil go...