Keep writing. It echoes, this charge, in my mind.Keep on writing…
For those who write, putting pen to paper, baring hearts right open, “Keep writing,” says volumes. Says, “Keep going.” Says, “It’s working, what you’re doing. You’re making a difference. It’s helping. It matters. Keep writing.” All of that’s packed like jewels in a black velvet pouch. In two small words.Keep writing.
I’m thinking today of bushes that burn. Of sheep herders. Desert dwellers. Those with a call.
Of folks simple and plain not born into privilege. The average, the normal, the ordinary, the unnoticed.
Like Moses, who doubted. Who trembled and questioned. He, standing barefoot before the Almighty. Who nailed him with this: “What is that in your hand?”
I’m thinking this morning of staffs made of wood. Thinking, too, of our vision and how it gets skewed. Thinking how we don’t see things like Almighty sees things, and that’s where we run off the rails.
Let me put it to you. You, standing barefoot, squirming, uncertain. You who are fearful and doubting the call. You who’re inadequate, unqualified, not certain. You with that thing in your hand…
“What is it? That thing in your hand, what’s that?”
Whatever you’ve got, well, it’s just the right thing, whether or not you can feel it. I AM is the one who gives us our tools. Knowing that? Well, it makes all the difference.
Whether a pen or a paintbrush, a hammer or mop. A spreadsheet, a sander, or chalkboard…rest here. It’s God who has picked you and God who’s equipped you. And it matters. Yes, all of it counts.
I’m looking at you, my friend, in the eyes. And Father, He’s looking at your heart. We two, He and I, we’re telling you this by a bountiful table of blessings: That thing you’re doing? You keep doing that. It helps, and it’s making a difference.