God, I just want to do something for you. I don’t know what, but something. It’s not goin to be much, I know. I’m too small. You know I’m too small. The world’s too big and messed up. I mean, you’ve seen this mess. You see it, don’t you? It just seems something ought to be done about it, but I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do. How can I do something? How can I not do something? Anything. I know I don’t have much of anything. Nothing, really, but this experience to share. Can it help? Who could be helped? I can’t see how anyone could be helped by this. Everyone in their own lives, their own pain and experience. How can they relate? How can there be inspiration in this little piece I have? This little piece of life—my portion. It’s too small, God. You know it is.
So you have to take it. You can make it bigger. It’s only something because of you. Please tell me you’re going to take it. I know if you took it, someone could use it. At least someone. I’ll never be any bigger. You know I won’t. You made me. You know you have to use it. Can the created be more than the creator? The man more than the maker? It’s foolishness, God. But you know that’s what’s being said. Can I do anything about it? Can anyone? Can anyone unstir the world? Can anyone hear again after losing their ears? Can anyone see after they’ve been blinded? Is there any sanity left when sanity is gone?
Take what I have, God. Just take it and don’t leave me with anything. I don’t want it. It will all break down if I keep any of it. It will all turn bad. Just take it all. Take it all and make it more. Make it clean and pure and bright. God, it has to be yours. Make it yours, God, not mine. Tear it from my hands if you have to, God. I know, it’s a blessing. Empty me out. Leave me nothing. Nothing left to be burned up. All my thoughts, ideas, talents, emotions, mind, body, soul. It’s all yours. Choices, preferences, opinions, freedoms, rights. They’re not mine. There’s nothing I have that’s mine. There’s only these things that are yours.
I know it’s not anything you need. You don’t need anything. Everything will happen. It’ll all happen anyway. But I want to do this. I have to do this. It’s all there is. Otherwise it’s just passing time. Time passing, walking down the road, doing nothing, going nowhere. You don’t need it. But I do. You know I need it. And even that need is from you, somehow yours, in the end.
And maybe that is something. Or maybe it will be. In the end.
Want to give something to God? Why not what he says is pure religion?
James 1:27. Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.
No more angst. No more second guessing if you’re doing something useful or worthwhile.
The beauty of the gift is its voluntariness. It’s all from Him; then we give it back–a beautiful dance of relinquishment on our part and glory on His.
James,
Thanks for the comment. I’d love to discuss this more with you. First off, I’m speaking to the writers here. This is the way many writers feel, despite our best intentions. And while I’m grateful for the confidence that a sacrifice for widows and orphans pleases Him, I can’t say that the contribution I have to give as a writer is sufficient. Yet this is the choice. Do I sit at my computer and learn to share my portion that way, or do I go serve more soup at the local shelter? Neither alone can ever be sufficient for me if I’m called to write. Only in giving all we have to God can we hope to have an impact. And that’s a constant struggle.
All that we do is for His glory. Writing, feeding, stooping, risking, loving. It’s a Brother Lawrence thing.
Hi Mick,
As a writer, I know where you’re coming from. So many times I’ve prayed, too, that the Lord would take what little I write and make it useful in the lives of others, or else there’s not much purpose in my writing at all. At least I hope I write with the right motivation and not for my own vain glory. I agree with relantvantgirl–all we do, we do it for HIS ultimate glory. But we need to be clay in His hands.
I so appreciate this blog of yours. Keep going!
Thanks, Mick. It’s a constant pull and push, give and take, isn’t it? I struggle with being both called to write and called to care for my ailing mother. I haven’t quite figured out how to do both well, at least not simultaneously. My mother’s needs have risen to the top in this season, and I’m committed to helping her, but often drained when it comes time to write…..So much to pray about, so much to keep offering over to God.
Lord, these are honest words poured out through an artist’s pen. As we all pour out words from our artists’ pens, may they reach this same level of honesty. All of us giving back to You what You have so lovingly given us. Artistic expression — sometimes not so artistic. But all Yours, all expressions of Your awesome power, of Your incredible love. Love we long to share with others. Love we long to share with You. I’m grateful for these words of my brother, my brother who loves You. May we be but broken bread and poured out wine in Your hands.
this is what i love about you. you come full of emptiness and that is a rare and beautiful thing indeed.
suz