Ahh, it's finally summer! Warm enough to be outside for some hikes and picnics, and time enough to catch up on all the projects half-started during the past nine months of working.
Wait, what was that? Did you say "all"? All of your projects?
Well...I'd like to get them all done...
What do you think God is saying about that?
Oh. Well, Lord, we've mainly been talking about slowing down and focusing, right? Kind of the opposite of getting everything done, actually.
Yes, you're right. I want you to re-learn how to rest. Don't be in a hurry, don't make a load of writing plans. Focus, and don't rush when you write. Make a point to listen for my voice. And don't insist on revising and resubmitting, because I might want you to work on something new.
But I have so much writing I want to do, and so little time! How can I just...what was that intriguing word you used?
Oh, you mean the word "rest"?
Yes, you'll have to remind me how to do that again. Anyway the point is, I can't be a successful writer by only writing a little during the school year and by "resting" during the summer, can I? If I start a new project now, it will only just get drafted and then have to be dropped in September, when it will be added to my towering "half-finished" pile. It's not like I'm a real writer whose entire life is one writing day after another. The clock is ticking, summer holiday will be over before we know it! I've got to get these children's pieces submitted and that story finished and review the novel now, or another year will go by and they'll still be sitting around! It's not like I'm Jane Austen, an unmarried young woman supported by a well-off, creative family, with one long unending holiday from an outside job.
Why not? It would do you good to get in the mindset of Jane Austen. Of having a mind calm and uncluttered, a quiet routine; knowing you have a servant to shop and prepare food for you and your family, a sister to share chores with, a desk with paper and ink beckoning. Not just for the summer, indefinitely. Do it. Get into that mode.
What? You're kidding me.
Not at all. In fact, since I've called you to write, you can count on me, can't you? I give you what you need, like a calm, focused writing mind. And I give you the time you need.
Of course. Oh, you're such a child, when will you learn?
I don't know. But at least I'm your child.
You'd really do my grocery shopping and make meals?
No, sorry, that part was just a metaphor. Which reminds me...you'd better work on those, too.