Sometimes, a friend knows just the right things to say. And last night, my friend was Madeleine L'Engle.
My husband had given me her book 'A Circle of Quiet' for our anniversary last July, and I had yet to read past page 20. By some inner prompting, I decided to pick up the book and read at least a page or two before going to bed. Immediately, I was transported to a quiet, coastal coffee shop, listening to Madeleine talk about her experience as a young writer and mother. Somehow, she knew what I needed to hear, and her heart was on the same page as mine.
I was always tired. So was Hugh. During the decade between thirty and forty, most couples are raising small children, and we were no exception… my love for my family and my need to write were in acute conflict. The problem was really that I put two things first. My husband and children came first. So did my writing. Bump...
But during the decade when I was in my thirties, I couldn't sell anything. If a writer say he doesn't care whether he is published or not, I don't believe him. I care. Undoubtedly I care too much. But we do not write for ourselves alone. I write about what concerns me, and I want to share my concerns. I want what I write to be read...
I covered the typewriter in a great gesture of renunciation. Then I walked around and around the room, bawling my head off. I was totally, unutterably miserable… I uncovered the typewriter. In my journal I recorded this moment of decision, for that's what it was. I had to write. I had no choice in the matter. It was not up to me to say I would stop, because I could not. It didn't matter how small or inadequate talent. If I never had another book published, and it was very clear to me that this was real possibility, I still had to go on writing.
I often picture writers as professionals, with a specific place and time write, a notebook and pen always beside them, and a few sticky notes on the wall. At least, those were the "real" writers. But here was Madeleine L'Engle, the Madeleine L'Engle, sounding a bit like me-- trying to frantically jot down a beautifully crafted sentence while stir-frying and hushing a child on her hip; trying to find time, even just a few minutes, to work on a page; trying to be true to herself and find someone to publish 'A Wrinkle in Time' and 'Meet the Austins', but only to receive rejection note after rejection note; trying to give up writing, only to find it flowing from her despite her attempts to stuff it down.
And so I start 2014 with a refreshed outlook, where I am not dwelling on the writing that was (much of which was rejected), but the writing that will be. There are still opportunities out there, and so much inspiration! I can try to stop writing, or I can choose to embrace it for what it is.
Which leads me to my word for the year: REST.
I want to REST in God's everlasting arms, and not in the world's fickle embrace.
I want to REST when I feel impatience, anger, or frustration rise.
I want to REST even when my to-do list is beckoning to me.
This year, I want to REST.
(The idea of focusing on a one-word resolution for the New Year is not my own. It is from my friend Laura's blog, which I recommend reading, especially if you've recently lost a loved one. Her father died suddenly a little over a year ago, and she writes openly and tenderly about her healing process. Click here to read 'A Letter to My Dad'. Also, she's very creative, and has TONS of crafting ideas!)
I often picture writers as professionals, with a specific place and time write, a notebook and pen always beside them, and a few sticky notes on the wall. At least, those were the "real" writers. But here was Madeleine L'Engle, the Madeleine L'Engle, sounding a bit like me-- trying to frantically jot down a beautifully crafted sentence while stir-frying and hushing a child on her hip; trying to find time, even just a few minutes, to work on a page; trying to be true to herself and find someone to publish 'A Wrinkle in Time' and 'Meet the Austins', but only to receive rejection note after rejection note; trying to give up writing, only to find it flowing from her despite her attempts to stuff it down.
And so I start 2014 with a refreshed outlook, where I am not dwelling on the writing that was (much of which was rejected), but the writing that will be. There are still opportunities out there, and so much inspiration! I can try to stop writing, or I can choose to embrace it for what it is.
Which leads me to my word for the year: REST.
I want to REST in God's everlasting arms, and not in the world's fickle embrace.
I want to REST when I feel impatience, anger, or frustration rise.
I want to REST even when my to-do list is beckoning to me.
This year, I want to REST.
(The idea of focusing on a one-word resolution for the New Year is not my own. It is from my friend Laura's blog, which I recommend reading, especially if you've recently lost a loved one. Her father died suddenly a little over a year ago, and she writes openly and tenderly about her healing process. Click here to read 'A Letter to My Dad'. Also, she's very creative, and has TONS of crafting ideas!)
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