God, Stories, and Me

Stories.

I love them, which of course is why I write them. You are currently reading the blog of a woman who has been writing something since she was six years old. This was in 1992, back in the day when an up-to-date computer was an IBM with a green screen and one program--Microsoft Word. Of course, that's also the year my dad bought me my first desk. I started my writing career with sentences, using first grade spelling words, about a one-dimensional character named Eve. (Yes, there could be a Genesis connection there, but don't read too much into it. I just liked the name).

Now, eighteen years later, I am still a writer, and a reader. If I go to a bookstore, you can count on my leaving with at least two novels, unless the selection's really, really slim that day. My favorites are inspirational novels, both historical and contemporary, which of course is where God comes in.

I just finished a wonderful story called Healer by Linda Windsor, set in sixth-century Scotland. In fact, I read so many books a year that I briefly entertained the idea of making this a book blog--that is, just writing book reviews. But then I thought, that might get tiring after awhile, so I'll just muse for now.

Reading so many stories, all of which have God inside them somewhere (not to mention the Bible) makes me wonder what my own story is going to be like. Sometimes I wonder--when all the Christians are Raptured to Heaven and God makes a new Heaven and Earth, will there also be a new Bible of sorts, filled with stories of His modern-day saints? And will I be in it? And if so, will my story be good, or will it be one of the most boring ones in the whole book--kind of like 1 and 2 Chronicles, which you have to admit is a struggle to get through?

You see, as a writer, I'm learning that I sometimes have trouble with wanting to snatch God's pen away. There's so much that I think should have already happened for me. There's so much that I feel my disability holds me back from sometimes. I mean sure, I have an M.A. and a 4.0 average, but only a couple online tutoring jobs that don't pay much. I'm still living with my parents while waiting to procure the money for a down payment on a place to live, and even if that does happen, because I'm taking CP along, that place--not just the house, but the town--will have to have all the right modifications. You wouldn't think that. I mean, I don't use a wheelchair or speech aids or anything. So what gives? It sometimes feels as though I've been given all these gifts, but not allowed to really use them--just play with them a little bit.

As you can imagine, that can be quite frustrating, especially at certain times. But during my devotional last night, as I was explaining this to God, something occurred to me. You see, I've always felt that it's my responsibility to be the perfect Christian and person. That way, I will have proven to God that I am faithful enough to have my desires one day. But as He put it,

"Some of that responsibility is mine."

In other words, let me carry that for you. Now, I don't know exactly what that means or feels like, but it was quite a lift to the spirit, so I will try.

Blessings, gentle readers,
-The Nutty Writer Lady

Matthew 11:28