I haven’t written in awhile, have I?
A dear sister of mine reminded me to get back at it, gently scolding me and reminding me that writing is in my blood, just like preaching and leading are.
For years I felt like writing was like another woman in my life—sort of like ministry was my true commitment and that writing took me away from this commitment. One guy I worked with told me as much, more or less.
When I moved to Calgary, my Lead Pastor wisely read the fact that writing is a part of who I am and encouraged me to pursue it as a means of restoring my soul.
When I found myself slouched back in that corner office myself, gripping the rubber armrests of the Lead Chair, I gradually discovered that writing was not just coursing through my blood, not just a necessary diversion, but a critical part of my ministry. Of my identity. Sermons are written before they are spoken. Curriculum and stories and other material are part of my ministry. A huge slice of what the Apostle Paul invested in this world was the written word.
This felt like a lifeline to me, an invitation to allow my schizophrenic halves to introduce themselves to each other and stop competing for the limelight. Wholeness seemed to be within reach. The problem was, the rush of ecstasy (not the pills) I felt that year because of this new focus led me to take on way too much, to launch too many things, and to come within a hairsbreadth of burnout. God barely pulled me from the wreckage last Winter.
So here’s the thing. I feel pretty balanced right now. I’ve got the ministry and home juggling act bobbing around pretty smoothly. I’m not exhausting myself, I feel energized and creative, and God is using me as far as I can tell. The problem is, I’m only juggling two balls, not three. I haven’t been writing much of anything. And juggling three balls is more than twice as hard as juggling three. Try it sometime. I mean with real balls.
So really, I’m not balanced at all. My sense of equilibrium is artificial. I simply must find a way to write, and often. I’m just a little scared to try, because I’m afraid I’ll burn out again.
Jesus, please show me the path.