What is the point of my words?

Just over a year ago, I became a writer.

Not that I wasn’t one before. But I never considered it a real thing for me. Not until I was no longer a teacher and knew, by the grace of words from God and those I love, that writing was the real thing for me.

And for just over a year, I have had plenty of words for you. I’ve never been at a loss for conversations I wish we could have or ideas I believed worth sharing. I’ve been given messages to give to you that seemed bigger than me.

Good golly, Miss Molly, I do love my job. This one – the one that connects us.

But…

It’s been more than a minute or two since I’ve been able to put two words, let alone two sentences together worth sharing.

I haven’t run out of passion or concern or stories. I still feel strongly that Everybody is somebody, that we are all in this together, and that it’s almost impossible to maintain any kind of balance in life without the help of a lot of friends, sufficient coffee, and Jesus.

No, I’m not different. It just feels like a bit of a dry patch. Maybe it’s the weather or the melancholy clouds of this Season. Maybe it’s because I don’t have any deadlines from freelance clients – so I’m letting it slide a little. Maybe I’m just lazy. Bleh.

Thankfully, other writers live this same life and feel the ebb and flow. And thankfully, some of them take the time to encourage those of us in the ditch.

This morning I read a few words by Bruce Brady @bdbrady007.

As writers, it’s our responsibility to use our life-lessons to give our audiences hope. No matter the genre, our readers and listeners not only look to us for entertainment and information, but also reasons to keep going. If we can’t give them that, what’s the point of our words? (from The Write Conversation)

Yowzers! and ouch!

My platform isn’t very big. I don’t have a following that Likes and comments within a minute of my posting. I started writing because I knew way down there where it matters that God wanted me to.

And He still does. I just know it. Even in the ditch. Even in the dry patch.

So when I talked to Him about this – about excusing myself from writing because I felt parched and empty – He offered me a cool drink. Some reminders of why I’m here writing and you’re there reading.

My lovelies, it’s still true. And every day it seems to get true-er.

• Everybody is somebody.
• We are all in this together.
• It’s almost impossible to maintain any kind of balance in life without the help of a lot of friends, sufficient coffee, and Jesus.

As we celebrate and endure the joys and melancholies of this beautiful Season of Light, I promise to keep encouraging you. I promise to do my job – the one I love and cherish. The one I never thought I’d have.

This verse was my Grandma Long’s favorite. I claimed it a long time ago – and now I give it to you… my first blessing of the Season.

The Lord is good.
A stronghold in times of trouble.
He cares for those who trust in Him.    Nahum 1:7