I've taken a big step out of writing this year. I have been having negative thoughts about the point of me writing or keeping my Quest. There are so many authors and bloggers and free amazon ebooks flooding the world that I have lacked the inner drive to write for myself. Why write thoughts/ideas/stories? Someone else has probably already done it or dreamed it up and posted it on Pinterest, YouTube, Amazon, or it went viral 6 months ago. What could I possibly contribute? What is the point?
I almost deleted this whole Courtney's Quest site (granted, most of it is filled with family-focused posts).
But, for some reason...I didn't. I closed the website and turned my attention elsewhere delaying the "end" of my shared words.
For some reason...
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I went to a homeschooling convention earlier this month which hosted some amazing and encouraging speakers. At the conclusion, I drove home wondering if they had ever felt like I do: What do I have to offer?
Their eloquence and wisdom and execution and experience was not quickly attained, I know, but it seemed extraordinary, almost like a *fairy-talent level of ability (*something they naturally do best and enjoy with all their hearts [I've been reading too many Tinkerbell tales with my kids!]). Ordinary people with extraordinary experiences and abilities to share.
Ordinary people, like me?
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Is this what Moses felt like?
"Me? Wait a second, God, you want me....to do what? I am a shepard. Sheep. I lead sheep. I don't have the words, and I wouldn't know what to say. This is CRAZYYYYY! Me?"
Is this what Jonah felt like?
"You want me to do what? Those people? You do know who they are, right? And why me? Nothing I could ever say or do would ever make a difference to them!"
Is this what Mary felt like?
"Me? I'm nobody special, Lord."
Three ordinary people, three people like me. Each responded and moved forward differently, but still the question below the surface of their response was - ME?
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I know God used/uses ordinary people, but for some reason, I didn't feel like that applied to me.
I don't want greatness or wealth or Rowling's success, but I do want to know that what I contribute will make a difference and matter. And I haven't felt as though what I could produce would matter.
Nothing kills creative juices like not having confidence in the fulfillment of your purpose.
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One of the fabulous speakers at the convention gave a workshop on not being a dream-killer. He focused on not killing your husband's or your kids' dreams, but I had a slap-my-face revelation while sitting there laughing with the audience that I've been killing my own dreams. The speaker went on to say that if a dream is dumb enough, God can kill it (citing the fact that, yes, we can even encourage our husband's let's-build-a-roller-coaster-in-our-backyard dream because, yes, it will more than likely not come to fruition), but I couldn't help but thinking that I'm killing my own dreams without anyone's dream-killing help.
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I made a new friend this summer who was excited to hear that I enjoy[ed] writing. But then she went on a rampage to encourage me after I told her that I had lost my desire. She told me that she writes a lot, sends her work to publishers frequently, and has gotten many many rejection letters - but, she hasn't stopped.
I felt like a poor, wet masquerader. She's living her dream and not discouraged when her work is not accepted. And there she was encouraging me when I had wingless dreams and excuses to pardon my lack of pursuit.
Me, Lord? Me?
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I don't want to have "what ifs" and "you should haves" buzzing me reproachfully at my "it's-too-late" date. I don't want to be my own dream killer. I don't want to ignore the opportunities and ideas that God has entrusted to me.
I need courage. I need to destroy this false notion that I have nothing to offer and that I'm not worthy/capable of doing something meaningful. I need practice. I need to be comfortable in knowing that, yes, even me, I can do something!
Me, Lord.
I almost deleted this whole Courtney's Quest site (granted, most of it is filled with family-focused posts).
But, for some reason...I didn't. I closed the website and turned my attention elsewhere delaying the "end" of my shared words.
For some reason...
-
I went to a homeschooling convention earlier this month which hosted some amazing and encouraging speakers. At the conclusion, I drove home wondering if they had ever felt like I do: What do I have to offer?
Their eloquence and wisdom and execution and experience was not quickly attained, I know, but it seemed extraordinary, almost like a *fairy-talent level of ability (*something they naturally do best and enjoy with all their hearts [I've been reading too many Tinkerbell tales with my kids!]). Ordinary people with extraordinary experiences and abilities to share.
Ordinary people, like me?
-
Is this what Moses felt like?
"Me? Wait a second, God, you want me....to do what? I am a shepard. Sheep. I lead sheep. I don't have the words, and I wouldn't know what to say. This is CRAZYYYYY! Me?"
Is this what Jonah felt like?
"You want me to do what? Those people? You do know who they are, right? And why me? Nothing I could ever say or do would ever make a difference to them!"
Is this what Mary felt like?
"Me? I'm nobody special, Lord."
Three ordinary people, three people like me. Each responded and moved forward differently, but still the question below the surface of their response was - ME?
-
I know God used/uses ordinary people, but for some reason, I didn't feel like that applied to me.
I don't want greatness or wealth or Rowling's success, but I do want to know that what I contribute will make a difference and matter. And I haven't felt as though what I could produce would matter.
Nothing kills creative juices like not having confidence in the fulfillment of your purpose.
-
-
One of the fabulous speakers at the convention gave a workshop on not being a dream-killer. He focused on not killing your husband's or your kids' dreams, but I had a slap-my-face revelation while sitting there laughing with the audience that I've been killing my own dreams. The speaker went on to say that if a dream is dumb enough, God can kill it (citing the fact that, yes, we can even encourage our husband's let's-build-a-roller-coaster-in-our-backyard dream because, yes, it will more than likely not come to fruition), but I couldn't help but thinking that I'm killing my own dreams without anyone's dream-killing help.
-
I made a new friend this summer who was excited to hear that I enjoy[ed] writing. But then she went on a rampage to encourage me after I told her that I had lost my desire. She told me that she writes a lot, sends her work to publishers frequently, and has gotten many many rejection letters - but, she hasn't stopped.
I felt like a poor, wet masquerader. She's living her dream and not discouraged when her work is not accepted. And there she was encouraging me when I had wingless dreams and excuses to pardon my lack of pursuit.
Me, Lord? Me?
-
I don't want to have "what ifs" and "you should haves" buzzing me reproachfully at my "it's-too-late" date. I don't want to be my own dream killer. I don't want to ignore the opportunities and ideas that God has entrusted to me.
I need courage. I need to destroy this false notion that I have nothing to offer and that I'm not worthy/capable of doing something meaningful. I need practice. I need to be comfortable in knowing that, yes, even me, I can do something!
Me, Lord.