When the Pen gets Cold

My pen has grown cold. Not a literal pen but a figurative one. Try as I might, the past few months were difficult for me to put words to my emotions. I am not sure even now that I can really write effectively.

Life continues to throw curve balls my direction. It makes me wonder at times just what God is up to. Not just some times but most of the time. The path winds down some steep and bumpy slopes fraught with confusion and at times feelings of fear and dread. I know that God promises that He would never leave me nor forsake me but at times it seems as though I walk this journey alone.

Words fail me. I lift up my pen and put it to the paper and find I have little to say. Really. I lift my voice in prayer and murmur confused words of pleading to God asking for a measure of understanding to come over me. How does one respond to circumstances that are out of their control yet impact us so profoundly?

Perhaps it is because I finally have come out of the fog of deception that I lived under for so long. This may explain why I feel so lost now. I am trying to understand living in truth. I am trying to understand how people do not always respond favorably to that position. And I am fervently praying that God will sustain me through this growth process so that I do not regress back into the person I once was.

I am praying for direction. What would God have me write about? What value does my writing have to anyone? Does it even really matter? Is my writing meant to be shared privately with my Father or does He intend me to share my journey more fully, more transparently to others? I want to be a vessel that is used. I want my life to have some real value to others. I want to know that my life has purpose.

In time, maybe the flame of my pen will burn brightly again. I pray that will be true. I pray that my words will be fitly spoken and that they would portray the truth of God's unfailing love to others. More than anything, I pray that my words will be s symphony of praise to my Father.