The sun has set now, long beyond the horizon. The colours that danced across the sky as the light of day slowly faded from view are gone now, too, and nothing is left, but the black of the night. Another day is passing, and the time that has gone by can never be brought back. Forever gone into the history books is this day, and as this realization hits me, I have to ask myself this question, “Am I any farther ahead in my journey as the final hours of this finite period we call ‘today’ comes to a close?”
My mind wanders as I ponder this question. What was it that I wanted to accomplish with this day? Can I look back and see that indeed I had succeeded? I consider my to-do list, and scan down the mental image of the things listed there. Did my performance measure up to my expectations? Can I close my eyes as my head hits the pillow in these final waking moments with a feeling of pride over all I had accomplished today?
Before I can finish mentally checking off all the things I have done, using the most beautiful checkmarks a girl could imagine, I am pulled out of the contentment of my thoughts. What lies before my eyes causes all thoughts of accomplishment to fall to the floor with an ear shattering smash.
It’s there, again! Just staring at me, threatening to shoot me with feelings of failure ~ the dreaded, white, empty screen! How long it has been there I cannot be certain. Today. Yesterday. Since last weekend maybe? Or quite possibly it’s been there much longer than that. There it is, void of words, void of the power of God, just an empty nothingness with no words to be found to fill it.
Nowhere is a beautiful picture of thoughts forming, full of inspiration and hope. Gone are the sentences full of encouragement flowing so freely. The river seems to have dried up and the canvas is begging for some ink, but this writer’s words seem to have left town! Disappeared! Gone! They went on vacation maybe, I’m not really sure. If you happen to see them, kindly ask them to return home ~ for until they do, I will continue to look upon this white page of nothing. Once again, as another beautiful day comes to an end, I am faced with the prospects of tucking myself all cozy into bed with nightmares of that obnoxious blinking cursor filling my head!
It does that to mock us you know… blink, blink, blink, blink. It sits and counts, as seconds go by turning into minutes; minutes turning into hours, and oh help the poor writer whose hours turn into days, or even months, with nothing but the light of the screen looking back at them and that laughing cursor that just keeps blinking on. Blink, blink, blink as if to beat into our minds, at its steady rhythmic pace, the lie that we have nothing left to say. Blink, blink, blink goes the cursor and blank, blank, blank stays the white page!
Words, oh words, where have you gone? Why have you deserted me? What is a writer without words? Surely nothing more than a fool, sitting ~ staring ~ watching the cursor go blink, blink, blink, waiting for your return. It seems, dear words, that you have gotten the order of things a tad mixed up. You belong to me. I am the master and you are to heed my command. I am the creator of the beautiful works that we do together, and as the thoughts flow, and as my fingers gracefully tap, tap, tap on the keyboard, you follow along and come together on the page. It is a beautiful thing when words abide in their writer and do as she commands. Yet there is no beauty forming on the screen tonight, only the sad reflection of a writer lamenting the loss of her words.
But wait! There’s a knock at the door!
Seems my words have been found! They are in the heart of God and He is waiting for me. Seems I am the one who has done the wandering off, and my Father has waited for me to come home. I, it turns out, am the one who has gotten things a tad upside down. The words do not belong to me at all, but to my Maker, and as I have stared at the screen, my God has stared at my heart waiting for my spirit to be open to His leading, so that He can pour His heart and His thoughts through mine. Together, the words that flow create not only something beautiful, but something with the powerful Light of God. For when the writer abides in her Maker and does as He commands, all grace is hers, all power is hers, and all freedom is hers, to let the words flow.
I am so sorry my blank screen, and my blinking cursor, I regret to inform you that you no longer will be a care of mine. This writer is putting her eyes on her Lord and regardless whether there are words or not, I will lay my head down this night knowing I have accomplished all I have been put into this day to do: to focus on my God, and rest in Him knowing that each day and all my accomplishments belong to Him. The words I long to share are His alone to give.
I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. John 15:5