What if you only had ten years left to live? Or three? Would you change how you are living—who you spend your time with? Would you take the time to hang out with your friends over a cup of coffee and some pie? Maybe carve more time out to hang out at your niece’s piano recital? Sit next to your dad while he watches his favorite television show?
God doesn’t give us any warning about our lives. No buzz shock before a broken heart. There are no flashing lights before our earthly bodies fail. So, are you doing what you want to be doing in life? Are you finding joy in the small things God plops into your lap?
Years ago, I went to my first writer’s conference. It was overwhelming and strange. One person alone gave me encouragement. And so I walked away. Fast forward twelve years, when I went to Mount Hermon. Again, not much support. Last time I went, I didn’t seek support, just to learn and that was what I needed.
And then it hit me. Although I’ve heard the cliche “do what you love,” I was pounding myself into someone else’s box. Now, my embers are kindled. Still don’t have a book contract with my sarcastic fiction, but I have jumped some hurdles: I have won some contests, signed with an agent, and finally feel like I am doing what I love.
My dad is my reminder to run the race (with endurance!) that God has set before me. I don’t want to give up before I cross the finish line. I work toward the goal, even if I’m crawling. And my race is different than yours. I’m learning exactly what endurance means.
(image courtesy of jesusandcoffee.com)
This week has reminded me, like a Gibbs slap to the back of my head, to focus on what I love to write, not be a performing monkey.
If you need me, I’ll be fiddling with my stories.
Roshambo Saves Lives 