I have had a rough few months. I could break it down for you (with all the gory details that make the mundane interesting), but in reality, the tears, that are sure to come, are too high a price to pay for a list of events that I have allowed to define my life over the last few months. Needless to say, I have allowed my joy to be lost, and my ever-hopeful (yet broken) heart has said "ENOUGH."
I like to think of myself as an author. I LOVE to write. Now that I am an adult, I have less time than I would like to actually sit down and write, but my soul longs for a pen and a pad of paper more often than not. I crave the excitement of creating something that brings insight or entertainment to others. I have a million "first sentences" running through my head, and no novel to put them into. When I do get the time to pen a poem or a short story, or add another chapter to the book I am (poorly) trying to write, I revel in the sense of satisfaction of a job well done. Not that it is necessarily all that well written, but it is complete. Now I can go back and edit and revise and make it truly great.
I am, for lack of a better phrase, tied to my writing. I am connected on a level that I cannot explain. Criticize my work, criticize me. My skin is not tough enough to handle any disparaging word. My writing is, in essence, a piece of my soul. (And I am generally too chicken to share it with anyone!!!!)
Today in church, my pastor used a phrase that I had not heard. Maybe I live under a rock, or maybe he coined the phrase right then and there, but it really grabbed my attention and started this blog in my heart and head. Les said "Jesus is the author of your soul." Of course, I wrote it down immediately (like I might somehow forget!) and began to reflect on it.
When I sit down to write something, I look at the outcome. What am I trying, ultimately, to say? Am I praising God's nature? Am I hating men (or just one) because of a broken heart? Am I sad and cannot express it any other way? I always know how I want it to end. I know the steps I need to take to get my piece there, and which crafts I must use to accurately express my thoughts. Then I plan it out--every last detail. When I get someone to edit for me (which is rare because, as referenced above, I don't handle criticism of my work well!), I know where I want the editing and revising to go. I don't want to revision my piece (as implied by revising). I want it to be exactly as I planned it and exactly as I visioned it when I created it.
That is how Jesus is in my life. He wrote my life-song before I was even created. He set it to music, and he brought it into being. Jesus created my cadence and my rhythm. He wrote the opening and closing line. He crafted me. Jesus has a vision for my life, and He doesn't take too kindly to people (in this case, ME), re-visioning it for Him. It isn't my place to be editor of my life.
I am God's creation. Yeah--I know, that is not a shocking theological statement there. But, today, I realized--God is more protective of me and more connected to me as I am to a piece I have written. God doesn't have a thick skin when His creation is criticized. God looks at me--yes even sinful, evil ME, and sees a His new creation. He sees in me what he envisioned in the first place--not what I have revised myself to be. I am HIS--He planned for me, and wrote my life.
I am drawn to John 15. I love the "Message" translation of the Bible, so that is what I am using today. Jesus says '1 "I am the Real Vine and my Father is the Farmer. 2 He cuts off every branch of me that doesn't bear grapes. And every branch that is grape-bearing he prunes back so it will bear even more. 3 You are already pruned back by the message I have spoken.' It says nothing about being pruned (or in this authors world, 'edited') by anyone but Him.
Hmmmm.... This wasn't exactly where I thought I would go with this, but here I am, nonetheless. I guess all of this to say that I really would love for my book review, when I am dead, to say that my life was true to my author's vision. Is there any higher compliment?
