I've been chatting with God a lot lately. Where my writing is concerned, the main subject of conversation has been about His gift. Remember my post below: His Gift, Not Mine? Remember, I'd decided to let go of the gift (the story I wrote for Him), hand it over, and let Him do with it as He sees fit? After all, He knows what's best, and I wrote my story for Him in hopes that it would touch lives.
Well, I'm hoping the Lord agrees. It IS His gift, to do with as He pleases, but I hope He keeps me (the giver) in mind. After all, it'd be rather disappointing if you gave someone a bike and never had the pleasure of seeing him ride it. Right? That's partly where the joy comes from with giving. Don’t you think?
Aaahhh, yes. This is my logic, the logic I use when trying to convince my Father of something I so desperately want. My fear is, He won't ride his new bike until I'm dead and having a grand ole time in Heaven and I have more magnificent matters before me. You see, I'm writing my stories whether they get published or not. If they're only meant for my children and my children's children to read, so be it. But I was hoping to reach a much larger audience.
This brings me back to the days when I've taken my Father by the hand every time we'd enter the grocery store together. I'd say with a thrill of excitement in my voice (of course, this was all internal; on the outside, I looked like an ordinary shopper--with either a flare of intelligence or a just-got-out-of-bed-look--but no different than anyone else around me). Anyway, like most kids do to their parents while in the grocery store, I'd say, "Come with me, Papa. I have something to show You." Clapping my internal hands with glee, I'd lead Him to the extended bestseller bookshelf (not the bestseller bookshelf, the EXTENDED bestseller bookshelf). I'd point to it with my eyes and say, "Will you please put my book there? Pleeeease? Pretty pleeeease? Pretty pleeeease with sugar on top?"
When I shared this ritual with my husband, he laughed and said he imagined God would, with His sense of humor, have my book land on that shelf by accident, by someone misplacing it, or something like that. Well, I "humphed" and made it clear I didn't appreciate my HUSBAND'S sense of humor on the subject one bit! Of course, after that I made sure to pray in EVERY store I entered from that point on. I'm sure the Lord really "appreciated" THAT outcome.
I'm not the greatest writer on the planet, and honestly, I'm ashamed to say where I think my writing abilities rank (this doesn't mean I don't try to do my absolute BEST). But I've seen average writers land on that bookshelf, so why not one of my stories? Right? Besides, I also firmly believe, since God can part the Red Sea, getting my book on the extended bestseller bookshelf, for Him, would be a piece of cake.
Alas I wonder . . . is this all about pride, or is it a strong desire to reach those who are lost and searching? My answer: both. Wish I could say it was only the latter. Pride can't be a good thing. Yet, don't we all take pride in the gifts we offer? Especially those gifts we've created?