I’ve been absent from my writing for some time now. Absent, not to be mistaken for thoughtless. I don’t enjoy this absence. There’s rarely an hour that goes by where something isn’t churning around in my heart to share or taking note of said topic’s continual resurfacing. There’s been many a time I feel as if I’m swimming in a sea of words, some words creating works better than others, yet their development never comes to fruition and thus, these works are scrapped. Some of these writings were better than others, and some were ill- formulated. Some were heartbreaking; grievous to toss, but I had to, so away they went.
For a long while now it’s been difficult for me to publish something I know will be somewhat, if not completely incomprehensible for my reader. It’s not that my reader won’t have any understanding, but rather in my relation of facts, story, insight and so forth, I am beginning to see quite a lot is lost in translation. I can’t afford that. My heart, perspective, and victories won’t ever fully be understood because well, they are mine. This isn’t my concern. My concern lies in the framework of the reader’s ability to understand the intricacies I attempt to relay through these personal happenings; my attempt to impart encouragement, hope, and other similar things to you. This is difficult. I can’t make you feel, change, or grow. I can only challenge, encourage, and believe the Holy Spirit is working through my words.
I pray for understanding and translation to your world, but that’s not on me or is it? Should you, my audience fail to comprehend what I’ve been empowered to say, are my words not full, but empty? I’m a glass half full, benefit of the doubt person, so I would say, heavens no! That said, the potential I see for those words seems void and it rather pains me to let them be written at all. To be swallowed. For these words were paid for on bended knee, most likely in the middle of the night, and in the currency of weighty tears. These words were expensive. A life lived in fire is expensive. I forbid them be tossed to the wind.
So here I’ve found myself, caught in the middle of this great passion; the deep desire to express the teachings of my Father through written form, while in the same breath, flirting with the idea of putting the pen aside for good.
Should the words I write not penetrate the very heart of who I’m writing for? I’ve leaned toward their withholding as valuable coins are preserved in hopes of their value increasing at a later time. This is my great dilemma and my great silence.
I have poured over nearly finished works of my own doing just to realize they have no place in my collection. I often question why I spent my time writing these in the first place. For me, writing is simply vain if the subject matter is void the presence of the Holy Spirit and the power of God-so I chucked those too.
Then there’s the last and final category, which is mostly what this is all about. Because of the previously mentioned items, I would find myself tailoring my “voice” to accommodate the understanding of those I’m writing for. This is obviously a, “no-no” in the writing world, but so very easily done and only months ago began realizing the severity of the scribal detour I had taken. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like my new voice. I would write and write with no avail, no works completed in months. I would near the end of what I believed to be a powerful revelation worthy of written expression only to toss them aside as a dirty rag. It pains me to think I was actually recreating the voice the Lord had placed in me to deliver others by. If I try to alter this after its discovery, I am both a wash and a fool for I have squandered the very gift of God He set within me to appease the crowd.
I wish I could take even a smidge of credit for this revelation, but in that I too would be a fool. I will always believe God’s richest blessings come in the form of people. That said, one of the most incredible, sincere, and warm individuals I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing shared this truth with me. I’m sure you can probably attest what it feels like when a revelatory moment comes? It can change your life. This was much of that. Cue light switch.
Finally! It was as if my darker shades were lightened and my frustration of my former works, blotted away in a seamless motion. Illumination in a moment of vocalized truth.
“It’s important that you never lose your voice.” Those words are fastened strong within my heart as if only spoken moments ago. I hear the tone they were spoken in, their weight each time my pen hits a page and my thoughts start tracking back toward that ill-formed way.
Here’s to keeping your voice-
My thoughts are filled with beautiful words for the King, and I will use my voice as a writer would use pen and ink. (Psalm 45:1)