I Have My Doubts by Bob Jones

“I have self-doubt. I have insecurity. I have fear of failure. I have nights

when I show up at the arena and I'm like, 'My back hurts, my feet hurt,

my knees hurt. I don't have it. I just want to chill.' We all have self-doubt.

You don't deny it, but you also don't capitulate to it. You embrace it.”

Kobe Bryant

“Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good

we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.”

William Shakespeare

“Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will.”

Suzy Kassem

Professional athletes have them.

So do classical writers like Shakespeare.

And people like Suzy and me.
 

Is there another quality that writers share in spades more than doubt? Even seasoned writers? Doubt, and specifically self-doubt, feels like a bad cold that won’t go away. After years of writing and thousands of published words, we may still doubt our ability to produce something that will resonate with readers. This post is a case in point.

The Inscribe writing prompt for January took us to Exodus 3, where Moses expresses doubt about his abilities. The Lord replies to him, “What is that in your hand?” Moses held a shepherd’s staff, an inanimate thing. And then God tells him to throw it down and it became a snake. A dead thing became a living thing, and a dangerous thing at that. So dangerous in fact that Moses runs from it! God says to pick it up by the tail and it returns to an inanimate thing. 

 

No doubt this is a timeless story that resonates with readers.

God uses Moses’ staff to demonstrate His power.

So, what do you have?

You have:

Smarts. You are intelligent, bright, witty, and clever.

Tenacity. You finish what you start.

Accomplishments. You make the effort to be successful.

Focus. You bear down on a task.

Fervency. You are enthusiastic about publishing.

How do I know these qualities are in you? 

 

Because you are a part of this community. You are reading, writing, posting, and publishing. You need a S.T.A.F.F. to accomplish all that.

Facing self-doubt is about throwing down your STAFF and seeing how God will transform it into life.

Vincent van Gogh said, “If you hear a voice within you say you cannot paint, then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.”

I am a writer and use what I have to write and write and edit and write and edit and write until something readable is created. Writing is about one thing: going into a room and doing it.

Doubt is overcome by doing. I throw down my STAFF and get going.

I do because of who God created me to be. And, as Olympian, Eric Liddell said, “I believe God made me for a purpose, but He also made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure.” When we write, feeling God's pleasure is a way to dispel our self-doubt.

The first time I was asked to be a ghostwriter, I doubted my ability to do justice to the person's story. The first book went very well. Ghostwriting was an opportunity to glorify God through another person's story. The initial success was followed by a second and a third, both with the same nagging doubt. My hope for 2025 will be that I get a 4th and a 5th opportunity and once again embrace and work through the doubt.

And let's not forget that some of our doubts are planted by the Adversary. The Daily Bible reading group I am in is reading from the book of Romans (Romans 8:34) about Jesus interceding for us. When doubts invade your thinking, remember that Jesus is praying for you. Throw down your staff and get going.

Your writing will do good for readers and for God in 2025. No doubt about it.

Thank you for reading.
Bob writes at REVwords.

 

 

 

D is for Defying Doubt by Lorilee Guenter

 

There is a dictionary full of words to choose for this month. I thought about reading through the entries to find something to anchor this reflection on, because I didn’t want to write about doubt. I recognised some irony in the search since I was letting doubt guide a path away from the one word that kept surfacing among the many options.

Doubt creeps into my writing journey in many ways. Some are obvious. Those are the easiest to catch and face. Others are much more subtle. All could contribute to the so-called impostor syndrome.

The most obvious voice of doubt screams, “You are not a writer.” The primary response is to pick up my pen and write anyway. As the ink makes readable marks on the page, I silence the lie. Even if no one reads what I have committed to paper, I have shown that I am a writer in the most basic sense of the word.

“But no one will want to read what I write.” Another lie born out of doubt. True, there will be people who don’t want to read my work. We all have different preferences regarding style and content we like to read. That does not prove that nobody wants to read it. It is not my job to decide who does and does not want to read it. My job is to express the ideas I have been given. Even if only one person, me, reads the writing, it is enough because, through the act of writing, I am able to clarify my thoughts.

Then there are smaller doubts that arise while writing or, more specifically, during revising and editing. The doubt is about clarity. This doubt can be a tool used to strengthen our writing if we don’t let it paralyse us. The dictionary and thesaurus might help here as we search for that word that brings an image to life. Conversely, it can paralyse if we let that hint of doubt keep us from picking a word, or creating a phrase. The perfect choice does not exist because each reader brings their own experience to the page. Those experiences inform the connotations the reader interprets language with.

As I walk through my writing journey, I must learn to recognise the doubt that paralyses and turn it over to God. By entrusting my writing to the Holy Spirit, faith replaces doubt. My writing becomes an offering. My responsibility is to be faithful to use the gifts I have been given instead of hiding them due to doubt. God’s responsibility is to take the offering and use it where, when, and how He wants.

I do not know what doubt I will face tomorrow. It is my hope and prayer that I will recognise it and continue in faith anyway.

Perspective by Pamela Mytroen

Perspective

I stepped over the edge

slipped on fear-pebbles.

They bounced and tumbled 

into the yawning canyon

plip-plopping into the river

below

I soared

on the warm updraft of confidence

until I squinted down

and crashed 

on rocks of doubt

I limp in the valley

of shame

surrounded by 

heckling coyotes

laughing hyenas

wishing I could 

crawl back to my nest

and hide

though gangly,

 my feet and feathers

are much too big now

my nest is too narrow

I look up

A new precipice invites me

beneath a witness of stars

I'm climbing now.

I will ascend until I taste

the pure air of perspective 

I will consider the white clouds I floated on

the blue sky I dove through

the fading jet-trail I wrote 

in big gauzy letters 

of faith

 

Will I step over the edge 

and fly again?

I'm surprised I even tried

I never knew I had wings

Maybe

I just need 

more practice

 

A little salt goes a long way by Pamela Mytroen

I don’t see God’s supernatural hand when I’m in the midst of a storm; I see it after the calm. After that wounded day of 9/11 in September of 2001, I had responded by writing an article, which I had taken to our local newspaper. It was rejected. However, I was offered a job as a correspondent, which softened the “blow”. I began writing feature pieces for the paper but I was restless. I desired to share Christ with my community, to point the way to Truth.   

The world’s thinking had shifted as the smoke from 9/11 dissipated into the clouds. Christ was embraced at first as people grieved, but the thunder of suspicion and skepticism towards Christianity began to rock our world. I felt that if I didn’t quickly share truth with people, that our chances might crumble like the twin towers. The editor had assigned me to write human interest pieces and I was not allowed to venture out of that role. How could I write for Jesus in our paper now? 

Previously, the Pastors of our community had written a weekly column in the paper, but over time, as the Pastors moved on and a new editor was hired, that column disappeared. I longed to see God’s Word in print, taking on advertisements and news. I began to pray about it and God began to nudge me to take action.  

God whispers, seldom shouts, but it’s a whisper made of fire that burns deeply. I don’t like to be the one to give feet and action to my dreams, but God believes in us; isn’t that amazing? So He wouldn’t let go. I was and still am fearful about leading. A storm of doubt always rages inside me when I need to talk to people and make something happen, but God’s whisper had shot through me and I needed to obey.  

I could send an email to the newspaper office with my desire to see this column start up again. No, too impersonal. Or I could call. Again, too easy for the editor to say, “no.” I knew I had to go in person, which unsettled my stomach. I approached one pastor and shared my idea. He liked the idea of writing for the paper, but said he was too busy to help me. So I approached another pastor, who was very young, and new in his position. “Yes, of course, I’d be happy to come with you.” I suspected that our inexperience and youth wouldn’t stand a chance against this seasoned, curmudgeonly editor. I’d been told that the new editor was very secular and wanted nothing to do with Christianity in her paper. “She will run you out of her office,” one said. Another said, “She won’t publish anything Christian. I’ve been trying for 3 years.” I really hoped the editor wouldn't be there when we went to see her or that the office would burn down before we arrived. Anything to avoid being chased from her presence. Just before we went to the Times, this young pastor and I bowed our heads and prayed that God would open the hard heart of this editor. 

We were ushered into The Editor's office. She jabbed at her keyboard as we stood before her. She asked what we wanted while she scrolled through her screen, harrumphing and sighing. We sat down. She looked at us over her glasses and I shared how I would like to see this type of column start up again. The young pastor enthusiastically talked about his ideas of writing for the Times. 

I will always remember what happened next. The editor crossed her arms over her chest and stared at us. She said nothing. The silence condemned me – why did I think this had been a good idea? Then, she leaned back in her chair. It was one of those reclining office chairs. She kept her arms folded and continued to stare at me. My perspiring hands slipped on the plastic arms of the chair. Not only would she reject this crazy idea, but she would probably not trust me to write any more feature pieces. Her chair creaked as she leaned forward, preparing to announce her judgment. I uncrossed my legs, and planted my feet, ready to flee from her presence. 

The words she said burned their way into my imagination and seared my doubts to a crisp. “Yes,” she said, picking up her pen. “That is exactly what our paper has been missing.” 

The young pastor, who had believed all along, chatted with her and they began to put plans in place. It would be called, “Pass the Salt” The word count would be 300 and pastors from a variety of denominations in town would take their turn writing every week. About that time I began to breathe again and we left the office together. That was almost 20 years ago.

The salt is still being "passed" every single week. Storms continue to happen since 9/11, but during every one that our nation, province, or community endures, the Word of God is shared by our pastors. Like a rainbow, it arches over the fear and devastation and gives hope and light to our community. 

As I look back I see that although God’s whisper is so gentle, and can be snuffed out, that is how He guides me. He is so wise. He fought the battle in the heart of an editor. He paved the way to transform lives, and all He asked of me was that I take His hand, go along with Him that day, and watch Him do something amazing. We serve an extraordinary God who whispers calm into a storm.