I'm a book-lover. Always have been and can't imagine that changing. Diaries were my outlet when I was younger. If someone got on my nerves, I wrote about him (or her). If my sisters' friends were mean to me ('cause you know I never did anything to get on their nerves), I wrote about it. When I started homeschooling, I wrote about it. When my grandpa died, when I couldn't find my cat's kittens, when I got to be Mary in the church Christmas program...I wrote about it.
I didn't think I could ever be an author. Not really. Books were long, and I didn't have much patience. In fact, I still don't have a ton.
Yet, here I am, possibly close to achieving that dream.
And I catch myself thinking, "Is this me or Him?"
Have I missed a turn on the path the Lord wants me to take, or is He orchestrating all of this? Have I sought Him enough as I've been writing? Is He pleased?
Then I remember I couldn't do a bit of this without Him.
He cultivated my desires. He blessed me with an abundance of Christian books. He's held my hand as I've struggled. He knew what I would have to go through in order to create the plots for my stories. He guided me to Seekerville. He convicted my heart about the crux of the stories.
He is doing the work. We are simply the vessels He's using.
That's humbling and inspiring, all at once.
I'm praying He'll use you to do what He wants done.
May we always allow it to be Him, not us.
"Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ:" Philippians 1:6