New Hurdles

The more I step into this world of writing, the more I find myself relishing it and simultaneously frustrated by it. The more I research and learn, the more I ignite my desire to improve while simultaneously triggering more moments where I to just throw in the towel and quit. The more I dig into what the writers I respect and admire are saying about the act of writing itself, the more comforted and then simultaneously delusional I feel. “Writing is a mind game” they said. Boy, were they not kidding. The farther I walk down this path, I am finding unexpected and mostly unwanted confrontations with myself. The more I stay committed to this pursuit, the more I am profoundly challenged.

At least that is what I am learning in just the last week or two.

Last Tuesday, I hit tilt. I was doing what felt valuable and honorable… hard work. Working hard at learning more about the craft of writing, mining for wisdom and practical advice, searching through the resources I have and wringing out whatever knowledge I could. I was trying to be responsible, focused, dedicated, and actively committed. But instead of finding clarity, I slowly drifted into confusion until eventually, I was questioning everything. Instead of motivation and enthusiasm about writing something new for this week, I slowly became more and more discouraged and agitated.“Why did I ever decide to pursue writing? Who do I think I am??”

I was totally overwhelmed by the sea of “others” all pursuing a similar goal as me. Advice about “building platforms”, and “page views” strangled all confidence and creativity. Eventually, I found myself so rattled by self-doubt that I had to just… halt. I silently (but firmly) told my brain to just STOP for a minute. I could not ignore the fears, the questions and the doubts swimming around me. I I threw out all immediate work goals. I needed to go back to the beginning.

I grabbed my journal and sat rereading the last year of my life. I checked dates and pieced back together my story. I needed to remember and I did not want a skewed version. I wanted to investigate when my prayers shifted. I wanted to know both when and how I started verbalizing this dream of writing. I needed to recollect the details in order to truly walk back through those days. I wanted to remember the whole progression.

What hit me square in the face was this:

There was a drastic difference between the prayers recorded in my journal and the thoughts now dominating my headspace.

What I reread was a heart that cared more about WHO I wrote for and WHY I would ever write than all the details of when, how, and what to write that my mind fixated on now. The contrast made it clear: I needed a reset. A legitimate come to Jesus moment. I needed it right then.

Learning and growing are absolutely necessary on this new venture. But I underappreciated what a fine line there is for me between learning from others and comparison fixation. Unchecked comparison led me straight to fear-dwelling, intimidation and utter self-doubt, which manifested in days of writing paralysis.

My mini-meltdown made me face that taking a new risk, beginning a new journey, and stepping out in faith does not guarantee a magical immunity to slipping back into the same old skewed mindsets. No, those same issues are following me right into my writing.

Writing is already where I feel the most vulnerable. It strips me down to the core, the raw, unprocessed, and unpolished side of me. It exposes all the hidden corners. It reaches the deep recesses and digs up the buried parts of my heart. So, to say that I knew blogging and posting on social media would stretch me a little bit should win “understatement of the year”. It has not nudged, but rather chucked me out of my comfort zone.

That is why I desperately needed a why. Or more clearly, why I needed to know WHO this all is for, without a shadow of a doubt.

And here’s my prediction: that need is not going away anytime soon.

For almost a year I had pictured myself waiting under the stoplight of submission, waiting for direction, waiting to begin down the new, the exciting, the unmarked road. As I waited and waited, I had been forced to submit it all: my dreams, my hopes, my fears, my plans… and then the light turned green.

Just when I thought I was exiting that place, just when I began bumbling down this new section of the road, everything started breaking down. Only then, I realized I did not in fact leave submission at the stoplight. It’s the gas that is going to keep this thing moving at all.

A season marked by waiting is not the only way to learn submission. I now see this new stage of writing is going to require continual and practical submission, and then resubmission, in areas of my heart I have not faced before.

It’s making me cling even more. It’s already making me trust in a different way than ever before. It’s revealing things I could ignore before. It’s pushing me past where I was before.

That might just be why He brought me down this path.

But what gave me the real kick I needed to stop stalling, and return to just practicing? To stop waiting and start creating? What finally pushed me to attempt organizing mixed-together thoughts and feelings into the rows on this page? What is actually helping me submit to discipline and stay the course?

It is not my sheer will.

It’s the encouragement of others.

“For most of us, it’s hard work, fraught with fear and self-consciousness, and it’s much easier to make dinner or mow the lawn or reply to emails. Get up. Create like you’re training for a marathon, methodically, day by day.” –Shauna Niequist, excerpt from Savor

“Sometimes I am nervous and scared and so unsure I can do this when the camera turns on and it’s time to teach. But I’ve learned to do it scared. Do it imperfectly. Do it uncertain when I don’t feel capable enough. It’s in that gap of all the unknowns where the Spirit has room to move. And God’s strength takes over.” –Lysa Terkeurst, from a recent Instagram post

“Some men came carrying a paralyzed man on a mat and tried to take him into the house to lay him before Jesus. When they could not find a way to do this because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and lowered him on his mat through the tiles into the middle of the crowd, right in front of Jesus. When Jesus saw their faith, he said, “Friend, your sins are forgiven.”[…]Immediately he stood up in front of them, took what he had been lying on and went home praising God.” –Luke 5:18-25