My Something

I watched a movie with my girls on the weekend called Ballerina. It’s about a girl who escapes from an orphanage with her best friend to go to Paris and make her dream of becoming a ballerina come true. Such a beautiful movie! Along the way, she has a mentor/teacher who asks her over and over why she wants to be a ballerina. She gets a little frustrated with both the mentor and the question, answering each time that it’s because she loves it. It isn’t till the end that she realizes the truth – that dancing isn’t just something she loves, it’s who she is. How she connects with the world. That it’s as much a part of her as breathing. 

I’ve been asking myself a lot lately why I write. The main character in the novel I’m currently working on is a lot more complex than I originally thought and is causing me no small amount of frustration. I wrote the first draft of the first book in this series – her friend’s story – in two months. This one has taken over eighteen months already and been a struggle the whole way along. I’ve cut tens of thousands of words from it and restarted the whole thing five times. I’ve wondered more times than I’d care to count why I’m bothering. Why am I putting myself through this stress? Why do I put aside other things I could be doing (sleep being pretty high on the list!) to write?

For a long time, I’ve answered pretty much like that ballerina – because I love it. Because there’s something about creating characters and getting lost in their stories which invigorates me. Of course, that answer doesn’t really cut it when I’m so angry with the story and its characters that I’m ready to throw it in the bin and happily walk away. And yet, I haven’t (yet :p). Because there’s more to it than that. 

I found the answer as I was reading my Bible a few weeks ago.

Acts 4:20. “As for us, there’s no question – we can’t keep quiet about what we’ve seen and heard.”

Peter and John, disciples of Jesus, knew what it was like to face opposition. I fight with characters in my imagination. They stood up to people with the power to kill them. In this chapter, they’d been hauled once again before the law of the time and threatened with prison or worse if they didn’t stop telling everyone about Jesus. And yet, they didn’t stop. Because they couldn’t. Because God had placed a message in them which they couldn’t keep silent about. 

I love writing, sure, but the reason I keep at it on those days when it hurts is because God’s put in me a message I have to tell. Sure, it comes out in different ways through various characters’ lives but the message is always the same – because of God, there is hope, and what we see now is not the end. 

I found another verse this morning which confirmed it again. It’s in 1 Corinthians 12, where Paul is talking about spiritual gifts. I love the way The Message puts verse seven: “Each person is given something to do that shows who God is.”

Writing is my something. One of the ways I can show others who God is. His character. His love. His grace. The hope that comes through knowing him.

So, as I head back to battling this headstrong character of mine and trying to finally finish the first draft of her story, I’m asking you, what’s your something? Why do you do what you do? What gifts has God given you which show others who he is? 

Praying God gives you the courage this week to use them. Just like God needs me and my stories, he’s needs you and your gifts.