My two nieces seem to age at the speed of light. I feel like they were just born and the oldest starts middle school next year. I found a piece that I wrote in 2016 about my oldest niece. The point I made rings just as true today. The people are hungry for a fresh word.
May 2016
Yesterday I got to spend some time with my niece. I adore her. She surprises me with her intellect for such a young person. She often reminds me of myself. Her stubbornness and peculiar personality make me love her all the more.
She got to open birthday presents from Granny and me a day early. Granny got her a very cool Color Wonder Art Desk. We spent a while playing with it. I tried to teach her how all the pieces work. After a while, I got frustrated. She was doing it wrong. At least, in my mind it was wrong. I eventually gave up and just watched her play.
My Mother gave my brothers and me the gift of words. She read to us from the time we were really small. When we were a little older, she took us to the library and let us pick out stacks of books. When I started reading on my own, she continued to take me regularly to the library to pick out stacks of books. At one point during childhood, I read so many books that I began going alphabetically down the shelves and checking out any book that I hadn’t already read or excluded because of the genre. I read hundreds of books.
Last week a friend and I were talking about God-given gifts. I shared with her that I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was 14 years old. At 14, I got myself a notebook, filled it with paper, and set out to write a book. I wrote a couple of tiny chapters and got frustrated. When I sat down to write my own story, I froze. I couldn’t come up with a storyline and found character development boring. At the ripe old age of 14, writing for me became a pipe dream. I decided that I had nothing to say.
As I sat there and watched my niece play with her art desk, something occurred to me. She wasn’t being destructive or unruly. She wasn’t thinking outside the box. She doesn’t have a box. She is still discovering the world with those beautiful, brown eyes one new thing at a time. She was methodically discovering each piece and seeing all it could do. I couldn’t help but wonder how different life would be if adults could approach new things without preconceived notions. Typically the first thing I do is reach for the instructions. I don’t believe there’s a thing wrong with following instructions. Following instructions often bring about the best result. I think, though, that there are areas of life where it would do us all good to loosen our grip on our tightly held, narrow definitions. Specifically, I’m coming to understand the truth of that with regard to our life purpose.
I was thinking today about the passage in Luke where Jesus admonished the disciples for scolding the parents who had brought their children to Jesus for His blessing. I can identify with the disciples. They had their own notions about what was important. Jesus had something to say about that. I’m no Bible scholar, but there’s a lesson here for me. I tend to lean hard on my own preconceived notions. To a large degree, I’ve lost that ability from childhood to seek innocently the whole truth, like my niece with those pieces. I’ve learned to ignore that innate curiosity, that leaning towards God’s giftedness instilled in me from the beginning.
“15 People were bringing infants to him so that he might touch them, but when the disciples saw it, they rebuked them. 16 Jesus, however, invited them: “Let the little children come to me, and don’t stop them, because the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. 17 Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”
Luke 18:15-17 CSB
At 14, frustration led me to narrowly define writing in my mind. I believed the lie that I have nothing to say. I let the enemy steal my desire to pursue what God intends for me. For years I have entertained the notion of writing, but have never been willing to explore it. For years I’ve been frustrated and unsure of a specific calling from God for my life. I’m beginning to reconsider. I’m definitely called to write. I still don’t know what, but I’m willing to explore. My friend told me last week, “The people are hungry for a fresh word.” I’ve been mulling her words since then. I believe the most useful words I write will be born from that innocent seeking of truth.
I’m challenging myself, and you, to reconnect with that childlike innocence of thought, that simple faith without preconceived notions, that willingness to seek God and expect to be welcomed without prejudice. A special gift waits for each of us at that place.
I will note here that I made good on that challenge to myself. For a little more than two years, now, I have published words at least weekly. And, yes, people are still hungry for a fresh word. 😊
This is sweet, Stef. I, for one, am thankful for your gift of writing. You do it excellently!