My 3rd writing day and I’m getting a late start. Not letting that stop me though.
I’ve finally dressed.
I made myself put on make up today.
Eyeliner, eye shadow and lipstick.
I do want to take this moment to Praise God, because the last two days of writing memoir scenes has been liberating.
It was the Holy Spirit’s words from last week that finally hit me; I just needed time to process his message:
HS: Why are you putting yourself through this?
Your avoidance is a misuse of energy & it’s breaking you down!
Fight through it!
Write it out, writing through it will be much easier than what you are living WITH
You are hoping this will go away on its own.
Your past is yours. OWN it!
Your God is Creator but you are the CREATED.
Re-write the Wrongs! He’ll do his part, but YOU need to do yours.
You’re making this more difficult than the process would be if you sat down and finished it.
I have doubted that what I have to say will be of benefit to anyone. However, this week, I had a fellow Christian author read two of my scenes. I’m grateful I did. I’m grateful God directed me to her.
It is encouraging when someone tells you to keep going. When you hear that what you’ve written is both important and good writing. But, I should have known that already. The Lord has been hounding me to do this for a while.
This morning I ran across a blog post written by a woman about death. It just so happens that at least one or two scenes in this manuscript will have to focus on loss and death.
It is a brutal topic. Brutal, because none of us really wants to face it but a critical topic because none of us can escape it.
I am blogging at this moment as a form of procrastination but also because in the writer’s world a blank page is static. I needed to get words flowing and build momentum.
No, I don’t want to write about those memories. No, I really don’t want to end up sobbing today – like I did as I wrote the last two days.
But the reality is I HAVE to. The longer I put this off, the more difficult it becomes. Three decades of wishing pain away is long enough.
I don’t want to look my 15 year old self in the mirror. I don’t want to see what I looked like the day I buried my mother.
And yet, the two scenes I wrote in the last 48 hours were crucial. They allowed God to help me break chains of bondage. Something I didn’t know was possible. Something that is of more worth than Gold.
So, I’m going to trust God, that as He has directed, he knows what is best.
I write to release and break chains that have kept me tethered.