While I haven't completely re-adapted to life in the diaper pail, I'm slowly re-entering the marvelous world of spills, thrills and sleep-deprivaton. While all the other writers were complaining about our far-from-luxurious dorm room accomodations, I relished the chance to sleep through the night, even if it was only in a twin bed with a paper thin mattress.
I'd always assumed that mothering is like learning to ride a bike: once you figure out how to do it, it just comes naturally. But after a six-day break from mommyhood, I am struggling to remember how I managed to cook meals, do laundry, engage the minds of five children and still have energy to spare when the day is done. Tips, anyone?
While I wait for your sage advice on how to rise to my daily challenge once again, I'd love to share with you a few delightful lessons I learned OUT OF THE DIAPER PAIL last week.
An Audience of One
About fifteen miles into my trek, I began to wonder What in the world am I doing? I promptly called my husband and moaned, I wish I'd packed a barf bag. Though he assured me I was going to be fine, even blessed, during the course of my writer's conference, I hung up feeling like a little girl walking to her first day of kindergarten alone.
Next I called a girl friend (If your man doesn't say what you're looking for, try a girl friend, right?). She repeated my husband's sentiment, but followed it up with May I pray for you right now? Battling tears as I zipped along the interstate, I listened to a sister of my heart storm Heaven's throne on my behalf. When she uttered Amen the butterflies in my stomach took flight.
Wrapped in peace, I began to talk to God. As the miles passed,God reminded me of the question He had asked me years ago. After a season of moderate success in my freelancing career, I suddenly hit a wall. Every publishing door I tried to walk through closed and my once reliable markets ran dry. Rejection letters filled my mailbox. Discouragement haunted my mind. Then, God asked:
Alicia, if you only ever write for an audience of One, will you still consider yourself a writer?
I felt a bit like Abraham on Mount Moriah. But Lord, I've pictured my name on the title page of that book I've been working on.
What if the only book that ever bears your name is my Book of Life?
I KNOW my name's in your book, Lord, but I want to see it on the cover of a book down here, too. Could I have BOTH?
Anything is possible for those who believe, my child. But what I want to know is this: Will you write just for Me?
As I laid my Isaac down, I promised God that I would write for Him. Whether my words ever reach the shelves of a bookstore or merely fill my Father's house with a fragrant aroma of praise, I will write. Because when my Maker looks at me, He sees a writer. And when I look at Him, I see the only audience that will really matters.
Who does God see when He looks at you?
Who does God see when He looks at you?
Today's Treasure: Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart.
-Proverbs 3:3
