One of the loveliest ladies I know, asked me the other day, “How do you write like that? How do you just sit there and…write?” At first, the flattery was gushing from my blushy-red cheeks and there was the slightest bounce in my step. Once I checked myself, I humbly remembered; this, is a gift.
Ever since I was little, I’ve had a deep affection for words. I would sit in the back seat of the car and ask my mom what every sign said on the way to the store. I would swing on my tree-swing with my walkman and shout lyrics like “she used to tie her hair up in ribbons and bows”, and “do you love me, do wanna be my friend”. A story, a lyric, an adjective, or a simile, I loved words.
6 months ago, I could hardly pick up a pen and paper because I was so bogged down by disappointment and worry. I didn’t have much joy inside and not much to say on the outside. Today, I can’t seem to stop writing. In fact, I was up until nearly midnight writing down my new adjective choices, and I was wide awake at 5:40 this morning wanting to open my laptop and start again. It’s much like falling in love with a pasty at a cute bakery, or a new Polaroid camera, or even a new person. You just can’t get enough.
I’ve already mentioned, a hundred times, how a good, descriptive paragraph in a book or a touching, true song lyric has this girl melting before your eyes. Many girls probably enjoy this kind of stuff. But myself, and most writers out there, have this deep-rooted passion for words of any kind. They too are probably like I am; addicted to writing. We have these thoughts and ideas and feelings that seem to spill out onto paper…or screen, anytime we set out to write.
But as I grow up, I realize this is my gift. Yes, I’ve been spiritually gifted, I believe, with leadership and hospitality. These two things come so easily for me that it is obvious they couldn’t come from anywhere else but the Holy Spirit.
But words. How did I obtain such a love and passion for them? I believe God set a tiny blossom in my heart the day I was made to admire, respect, and love words and beautifully put-together-words. I believe He did that so when I read His words, I’m drawn to them and they are set in my heart. I believe He did that so he could use me as a vessel for words to reach other people. I believe He did that so I might have something in this life to keep me joyful and full of passion. Let me tell you, even at the end of a bad day, I come home, climb under a blanket, and I write. And suddenly I’m feeling alive again. Suddenly I’m smiling and full of hope. For me, life and faith is more real to me if I’m feeling it. And words become my way of feeling everything around me.
In turn, I’m hoping these words God continues to give to me does the same for other people. I actually write for myself; it’s a therapeutic way of getting my jumbled thoughts out into something…normal. But because I have this gift and this affection, I can only hope it would all be put to good use. And my hope is that no one is ever forced to read these words like a textbook before a final, but that they would be drawn to words of any kind-mine, or someone else’s- and just, simply wouldn’t be able to get enough.