It seems we spend our lives chasing dreams and goals and
purposes. I always wanted to write, but it wasn’t until I was sixty years old
that writing became a burning, driving force inside me.
As a beginning writer, or for some seasoned authors, we seek
affirmation that writing is truly what we should be doing. We pour our hearts
out on paper (or in our computer), and sit back and expect the praise to roll
in. Why wouldn’t it? We feel called to write, so obviously our gifting and
talent should be apparent to everyone.
I found it’s much like learning to walk. We got the basics
down. We can get from point A to point B. But simply because we can walk doesn’t
mean we’re capable of running a marathon, or walking to a car, climbing in and
driving off. Toddlers can’t do any of
those things yet.
I’ve learned you have to be willing to take criticism, correction,
and accept that some may not like what you write, or even your writing style.
To be successful, you have to determine that you will take all that-- the good
and the bad--and learn from it, and not let it ruin you.
That’s easier said than done, especially if your personality
is like mine: a people-pleaser. I
agonize whenever I think someone doesn’t like me, or finds fault with something
I do. I wished, desperately wish sometimes, that I wasn’t like that.
I have to constantly remind myself of who I am in Christ.
When I doubted my ability as a writer, God spoke to me. He said, “Who are you?
Are you who others say you are, or are you who I say you are?”
That’s enough encouragement for me.
