why I’ve not been writing.

I’ve been trying to figure out why I’m not writing any more. Today I had a bit of a breakthrough when I was studying the Bible lesson I’m going to teach tomorrow morning. The lesson is on praying “big” prayers for ourselves and each other, the kind of prayers Paul prayed for believers in the various churches he had helped establish on his missionary journeys. He prayed that believers would know how “wide and long and deep and high” the love of Christ, “which passes all understanding,” is. He also prayed that they would be filled with “the fullness of God”–the Holy Spirit. (see Ephesians 3:14-21)

The author of the lesson went on to list the 3-Ds of why we Christians often don’t comprehend how perfectly God loves us and recognize the presence and power of the Holy Spirit in our lives. Do you ever feel like you are in a fog as you try to pray? I do. And I know I have felt the “fog” of having no words to write. Here are the dreaded 3-Ds:

Distraction, Depression, & Doubt

The lesson is wonderful and I look forward to the discussion this wonderful group of godly women and I will share tomorrow morning. But the lesson opened my eyes to reasons that might explain my “dry” spell when it comes to writing, my prolonged bout of “writer’s block.”

I have been distracted by so many things. Grief. Worry. Family illness. My own health. This tragic, sin-ridden world we live in and all the suffering that is reported on a daily basis. Life change with “semi-retirement.”

Depression is a fact of my life that is always present to some degree, even with medication and therapy. Yes, losing a son to suicide is a constant reminder and frequently triggers a temporary worsening. Yet, seeing my daughter live her life happily, successfully, victoriously while dealing with depression lifts me up.

I never doubt my faith or the reality of God’s love for me. His hand has been visibly at work in my life in so many ways. But I have doubted that I have talent. I have doubted that the stories I tell are really worth telling. I have doubted so strongly that I have failed to discipline myself to write.

I hope (and pray) that the fog of distraction, depression and doubt is lifting for me. At least I’ve been able to write this piece. I have a story started–a woman named Wren and a man named Logan, both scarred by life. Will they find healing with each other? I haven’t a clue.

You are now somewhat responsible for the end of the story, you know, because you’ve read this far. You know my dilemma. You know my weaknesses. Encourage me, please. I need to know the end of the story.

Thanks for visiting. I’ll be interested to see where my story goes. Maybe you will be, too.