Doing it Afraid - Ruth L. Snyder

How do we keep our writing fresh?

The typical answers that come to mind are:

• Read books (Good books inspire; Poorly written books instruct)
• Go for a walk in nature (This revives our spirits, gets the blood pumping, and helps us think more clearly.)
• Keep a writing notebook (Throughout our days we see, hear, and experience things which will be helpful in our writing. Capture ideas before they evaporate: a quote, a description of a scene, how someone looks/acts, a topic that captures the imagination.)
• Take time periodically to write down everything that comes to mind (This is called a brain dump. You'll find that you are able to both record what you're thinking about and make more space for new ideas.)

Lately God has been challenging me to take more risks with my writing. 

I don't like risks! 

I like to be in control. I like to feel safe. I like other people to like me. I like congratulations and awards.

I don't like to make mistakes. I don't like to do things when I'm not sure of the outcome. I don't like to be wrong. I don't like to be corrected. 

Simply put - I'm proud. I'm sinful. I'm selfish.

Ouch!

God wants me to be obedient. To follow Him into the unknown. To put aside my selfish desires. To reach out to people I may not understand or naturally love.

What does this mean for my writing?

• Taking every opportunity God brings my way
• Trying new topics
• Learning new things
• Being transparent

Sometimes I feel like I'm jumping off a cliff, but my feet are probably still planted on firm ground. I have a long ways to go! But I'm taking the first step - saying, "Yes, Lord."

Just imagine what God could do if we all gave Him complete control!

Anybody want to go cliff jumping with me?

Stretching - M. Laycock

The Yukon autumn was sliding into winter as my friends and I sipped coffee and stared out the window of our warm log home at the heavy frost on the ground. The conversation turned to the subject of wood. Firewood. We all admitted our woodpiles weren’t quite as high as they could be. We all knew what minus 60 was like, that our stoves would deplete the store of fuel in no time.

Then Anne mentioned a local sawmill was giving away slab wood. The slabs were mostly bark with only an inch or two of wood, but they were dry and made great kindling. Enough of them would be a welcome and needed addition to the stock of wood in our yards. But we also knew our husbands’ jobs left no daylight hours to haul wood.

It was Barb who said, “So it’s up to us.” I was the last to agree. I knew how heavy our chainsaw was, having run it once or twice. The idea of spending a whole day running it didn’t appeal to me. But my friends assured me we could do it. Barb rented the truck; Anne packed the lunch; I brought the coffee and snacks. And I prayed.

A few days later I found myself staring at our saw as my husband sharpened the chain and explained how to avoid stalling it. For most of that night I considered how I might get out of this adventure, but the next day the first crack of light found me and my two friends stacking slabs on the deck of a five-ton truck.

As the pile grew, we took turns climbing on top to trim the ends on the far side. My arms, already aching from tossing the slabs, shook as I leaned over and tried not to think of falling off with a roaring chainsaw in my hands. But the pile slowly grew until the three of us, dirty, exhausted, but smiling, stood back and surveyed the stack of wood, piled as high as it could go on the back of that five-ton.

The sun was setting and the temperature dropping as we drove home. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on our husbands’ faces when we arrived with that load of wood. The knowledge that we had made a significant contribution to the comfort of our families that winter made all of us smile. The episode had been a stretch for me, but the accomplishment made me realize with the Lord’s help I was capable of more than I had thought. It felt good.

I once heard a challenging sermon about stretching. “It’s in stretching that faith grows,” the pastor said. “It’s in stretching that we learn to rely on God’s grace.”

Stretching your faith might mean letting go of something you’ve been worrying about. It might mean reconciling with someone who has offended you. It might just mean attending a Bible study group for the first time. It might mean writing a poem or an article even though you’re a fiction writer. It might mean starting that first novel, or hitting the send button to put your words out there for the world to read.

Maybe you’re thinking the same thoughts I did the night before my wood hauling expedition – “I don’t think I can do it.” Maybe you’re right, but God’s grace can do it through you. So pray. Then go ahead and stretch.