Three years.

Much can happen in that amount of time.  Much has happened.

There has been life and there has been death.  There have been a few acceptances and many rejections.  There has been writing and rewriting and yet rewriting again of a book.  There has been much learning and much reading and much perfecting of my craft.

Much can also remain the same in that amount of time.

I still discipline myself to write almost every day.  I still polish enough words to publish in this space once a week.  I still believe that I am in a season of very little ones where I am waiting, practicing and learning and refining my art.

Another element that remains the same is my fear.  I am learning that no matter how long I have been writing, it is still a frightening thing to release my words, that deeply vulnerable piece of myself, into a world that seems increasingly venomous.  I am also learning that no matter how much encouragement I get, I am still mostly convinced that my skill is substandard, clumsy, inept.

I am grateful when someone says that I spoke to them, that my words helped to heal or encourage their heart.  I am reminded that, as much as I may sometimes desire to reach the many, God is concerned with the particular.  One is as important as the whole.

I get restless at times.  I find myself chasing after something in the world of writing instead of just diligently writing and waiting on God, and I have to ask Him to reign me back in.  I want to spend time at writing conferences.  I want to publish my book.  I want to have my articles accepted into magazines and journals.  I want to write epically and impact the world for God.

Yet most of the time I am content with what God gives to me.  For truly, I am not ready for much responsibility and must continue to show myself faithful with the little that I am given.  I am content to put in the time so that I can learn how to make my words sing.  I am content to continue to read and study so that I have the substance to place within those words that will sing.  I am content to dwell in this moment, this moment in which my little ones are so very little, which won’t last for always.

So here I am.  Three years later.  Much has changed.  Much has remained the same.

One fundamental that has not changed?  The One I am writing for.  And so, once again, I will end as I began:

Whatever the reason for my writing, here I am in this space.  I will continue to obey, even though it is hard and often causes my heart to feel fear.  I will write.  God will listen.  I pray He will continue to be pleased.