From The Very Stones

Jesus,
I have been writing. I've been writing a lot of stuff for Church. For Christian films. Faith-friendly films. I have been writing, like You told me to. Haven't I? Or have I?

I know You are not displeased with these things. Because I see what You are doing with them. I see how You bless people with them. I see how You bless me. So surely You are not displeased. But I wonder; Are You pleased? Are You delighted in me? You see lately I can't help thinking that I've been missing something. And I am wondering if You are really as pleased with it all as I've been telling myself You are.

I remember those late nights we would spend together when You would teach me things and I'd write about them the way a teenager writes in her diary about her first love. There was such lovely poetry between us then. I think I was a better writer when I was just thinking about You and loving You with the words of my heart.

But now when I spend more time trying to write the "right thing" for an audience. Or when I'm all wrapped up in the three-act structure, or obsessing over page/word/character counts, it feels like everything is just a performance. It's all torn apart before it ever gets finished.

I am left asking myself, "where is Jesus in all this?" Did I ever really give Him a voice? I mean did I REALLY? What would You like to say? How do I get out of Your way and let You get a word in?

I should have a conclusion. But I don't. This should be going somewhere and maybe it is. But the somewhere isn't my somewhere. It's Yours. And I stopped listening to You. I've been listening to people who've been speaking on Your behalf. I've been lured, hired, assigned, called upon, prophesied over, flattered and praised into believing that everything is a sign and a calling to do one more thing. One more script. One more play. One more project.

And perhaps a lot of this was from You. Maybe all of it. But the fact is I haven't been hearing it FROM You. And that's a problem. Because it means one of two things. Either I've become so dense that You have to speak through other people to get to me; or it's not You and I'm just burning myself out from guilt and pressure and my innate inability to say,"no" to someone else's agenda.

If it's the first then I'm putting myself in the awkward and repeatedly problematic position of not having the full confidence that I should have because I'm getting it second hand rather than straight from You. If it's the second I'm leaving myself open to being taken advantage of by every beloved brother and sister in Christ who thinks You "put me on their hearts" when they were thinking about their next project.

I know You can work all things out for my good regardless. But still I need You. I need You now. Not for my writing but for the sweetness that gives my writing meaning. Even if I never write a word, I want to feel the presence of You that is so glorious and precious that it compels words like "glorious" and "precious" to exist in the first place. And then when they fall short to wrench from the very stones of the earth words like: Beautiful, Awesome, Powerful, King, Savior, Holy, Majesty, Lord... And every other word that can be lavished in every language that can be known and spoken. Or written.

I have just now in the soul of my being, on the tableau of my mind seen and desired a waterfall to spring up inside me. Mighty, tall, raging and it is driven by a prayer that it would burst forth from my mouth and fingers and eyes and even my toes. And that the life within it would carry me along the torrents. This living water so sweet, so joyous, so Jesus, would be in every word.

Let these be Your Hands. Let this be Your Mind. Let me speak Your words. But above let me abide in You.