The river rushed by in a peaceful, flowing rhythm, with the beautiful rays of the warm afternoon sun casting a gleaming reflection over its currents. I stared vacantly into its flow as discouragement dimmed out what should have been a lovely view. Ugh, not again. I was sick of these emotions. This was my second writing conference of the summer, and though the anxiety wasn’t the same intensity, other thoughts assailed me. A bit of impostor syndrome. No, wait. A lot of it. Then, conviction. Things I saw about myself that I didn’t like, that needed change. Then came the ever-present inner critic that wanted to pull me back under, even though I had been fighting for months to rewire negative thought patterns. It’s difficult to go against a lifetime of bad habits.
I sat there on that bench, turning my face away from the sidewalk as people passed, as tears began to form in the corner of my eyes, as unanswered questions pestered my mind. Fears sprang up, twisting their gripping words, trying to squeeze out the joy of being among writers, my passion, a place I felt at home. Frustrated, I started to pray. Though they were scattered words, and I didn’t know exactly what I needed in that moment, I knew God had helped me through the first conference in the way I needed, and I knew that He could do it again.
Though I really didn’t want to interact with anyone, my heart still feeling raw and exposed, I didn’t want to miss the conference because of the spiraling thoughts that wanted to take over as they always seemed to do lately, so I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed back up the flight of steps into the conference center.
Hundreds of writers were milling about, laughing, talking, some dressed in costumes, some in nerdy shirts, immersed in conversation. I longed to join in the jovial mood, but it wasn’t possible in that moment. Since it wasn’t time for my next session, I wandered into the Expo hall. More laughter. Liveliness all around. Booths filled the hall, stacked with books, amazing cover art, cute dragon plushies, and fantastical things authors love. I slowly went down one of the aisles, making sure to avoid anyone as I half-heartedly scanned the merchandise. Why couldn’t I leave this burden behind? Why did they have to continually follow me whenever I went?
As I neared the end of one aisle, I looked up and realized I recognized the banner on one of the booths, and standing behind it was the creator of a writing challenge I had been a part of several months ago. It was a challenge that helped me write my second novel within 90 days, the shortest amount of time I had ever completed a draft. Though I still wasn’t feeling myself, I picked up my pace, kind of excited to go say hi and at least thank the man who had developed a challenge and helped me write a new manuscript that I was kind of proud of.
As I got to the booth, I saw he was busy talking to a customer and held back. Since I had stopped, someone else who was manning the booth asked if I wanted to roll the dice to win a prize, so I rolled the dice and got a pretty cool map.
And then I went to say hi.
I wasn’t expecting much from it. I just wanted to say thank you. That had been my intention, but then I started talking about the 90-day challenge, and soon fell into a conversation about where I currently was with my writing and my life. Words just poured out before I could stop myself, and I’m pretty sure I cried. Yes, I did. Seems to me I can’t stop doing that these days, and I love doing that in front of someone I hardly know. Yet, he listened. With compassion. With a sort of warmth and genuineness that invited me to keep going. I felt seen. I felt heard. I felt understood.
It was weird
Not in a bad way. Just…I’m not used to it, still.
For some reason, a part of me is so used to being dismissed, or given awkward looks when I get emotional, or just maybe…annoyance. It’s what I expect, even if that hasn’t been the case mostly anymore; but it’s like my body is waiting for that to come. Instead, I got the opposite.
Then, he asked if he could pray for me.
What?
I had not expected that. Funny, cause the Bible talks about praying a lot, doesn’t it? And yet whenever a believer asks me that question, I always get taken off guard, especially if it’s someone I’ve never talked to before. As if we can’t pray for each other outside of our own local church? Why is that something some of us shy away from, or just simply have never learned to do? We say prayer is important, yet we are hesitant to pray?
Of course, I said yes to prayer. Although let’s be honest, sometimes we say yes just to look like good little Christians, even if we have cynicism hidden away, not believing it will do anything, but it would be a poor Christian thing to do to say no to a prayer. (Don’t worry, this wasn’t one of those times I was being cynical; I would tell you if I was!)
Then, a second thing happened.
He asked if he could place a hand on my shoulder.
Again, what? Excuse me? I mean, yes, I see that happening to other people, but I don’t experience that very often. (Hmm, repeat theme from previous blog post, I see). Of course, I said yes, again. He gently put his hand on my shoulder and we both bowed our heads, in a busy room full of people. I didn’t care. I think a younger me might have been embarrassed by that, but I felt touched and…comforted. It was like I wasn’t alone, carrying my burden. I can’t even remember what he prayed about, but that discouragement I had been battling with started to lift. How could it stay when I knew that this wasn’t a mistake that I had bumped into this fellow believer, who had a passion for writing, who had listened to my story, and had asked to pray with me? That wasn’t a coincidence.
And the prayer wasn’t the only thing I got out of that meet-up. As I was talking through my circumstances, he asked me what I thought God was calling me to do, and I felt myself freeze inside. What was God calling me to do? Yes, yes, typical Christian answer, “Everything you do, do it all to God’s glory!” That’s true, but let me ask you this, although we ought to do everything to God’s glory (whether big or small) what if God is calling you do something with the gifts He’s given you…and…maybe there are things you are holding back on, because of fear, because of uncertainty, because you simply don’t trust Him to provide for you as you take the steps down a path you’ve never done before? What if you are praying for direction, and maybe He’s given it to you, but you’re ignoring that answer because it isn’t the one that aligns with your plans, or how you believe the story should unfold? What if we aren’t taking that step out in boldness that we should be?
In part, I know after my first writer’s conference that I felt assured that I was storyteller, a writer, and that is something He has been putting on my heart that I should be pursuing, but when this question came up, I could almost feel something pressing against my heart, as if I know there are things that are holding me back, but I’m not sure how to tackle them. Or too afraid to. I’m in the middle of figuring it out, with God, and that’s honestly a hard place to be. In the uncertainty. But it’s okay. Because God knows why this journey has been difficult for me, and I am fully confident that He’s going to grow me through it. He has been helping me. Not in ways I expect, but it seems to be that’s kind of how He works, isn’t it?. We don’t often know how our stories are being written, but we have a God who does, and sometimes we just have to realize He knows what He’s doing, even if we don’t know the answers ourselves.
Gettin' Real 