So. It’s been a while. I know, I’m just as surprised as you. I’m stepping foot into these waters again, wiggling my toes as the cold water dances across my feet, and it’s kind of terrifying. However, God sat on my shoulder the other day and reminded me that I wasn’t using my gift like I should be. The gift of loving to write. So here I am, wading back in here trying to act like I never left, but the truth of the matter is – I did. I ran away when writing didn’t come as easy anymore. When I felt like a fraud. When I felt like I wasn’t someone worth listening to or using. I’ve started novel after novel, but every one came up short because I let myself get shaken.
Don’t do like me, ok?
Here’s the thing I’m having to learn, God didn’t tell me to write because I was a good writer. He told me to write because His story needed told and He was going to use my fingers. So here I am, poured out with my lackluster talent and a little bit of fear to tell the story of the Jesus. The story of the world.
A friend of mine likes to tell anyone who will listen to her something akin to this: “this isn’t my story, this is God’s story.” She will shout it from the rooftops to anyone who will give her a second of their time. Why? Because this is what freed her. And slowly, it’s starting to free me too.
Rarely in my life have I written for the message as much as I’ve written for the reception. For the nervousness and the rush of adrenaline when I got a comment or email as feedback. It was (is) my drug of choice.
Down deep, I think a lot of us get our high off of this every now and then. The only thing that makes me any different is that I have built a lifestyle around this. Or rather, I’ve built my life in order to avoid criticism, or at the very least resist it. Criticism to me was a warning sign that I was running on E in my affirmation tank. If I recieved criticism, I took that as identity.
I didn’t have a problem. I was a problem.
As a result, this has made me a very difficult person to give advice to, let alone offer a critique.
So you can imagine when I made “good” writing my identity – my god so to speak – I was constantly running on E. Too much pressure. Too much editing. Too much reading the same post over and over again until I could quote it in my sleep. The constant need for “good job” or “well said.” Funny thing was, whenever I got those things, I was still empty. And when I got negative feedback? Crushed.
Of course, there are always the straws that break the camels back. I didn’t have very many readers. I didn’t know how to grow my platform. My social media response wasn’t as strong as I wanted it to be. Notice anything missing here?
God. The Savior. The reason any of this was worth doing in the first place. It’s funny how the story always goes wrong when you leave the main character out. So I quit writing. It was too stressful. Too overwhelming. “I wasn’t successful at it.”
So here we are, over a year later, and God whispers to me one morning- “if you’re ready to tell MY story, I’m ready to use you.” And now I’m sitting here, hunched over this laptop like I’m Gollum and this keyboard is my Precious, banging out some words and hoping they make sense.
The future of this little corner of the web is going to be about Jesus’ story. It’s not going to be a way to build the Caitlyn brand. It’s not going to be about the followers or how cute the posts look on the website. This is just going to be a place for inviting Jesus in to tell His story.
Because that’s the only thing worth writing and it’s the only thing worth reading.