Flower photo (Photo credit: @Doug88888)
And the day came when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
Anais Nin
Why do we fear writing? I have a friend who writes beautiful poetry and hides it in a box under her bed. There is in each of us a desire to be known that is in conflict with a fear of being known.
I read one time that flowering in a plant is not optional. It is a survival mechanism. Plants that do not flower die without giving life.
If you are a writer you are called to share. If you are not a writer you are still called to share.
Our stories connect us and give life to the next generation.
“I not only have my secrets, I am my secrets. And you are yours. Our secrets are human secrets, and our trusting each other enough to share them with each other has much to do with the secret of what it means to be human.”
— Frederick Buechner
Be bold. Share your stories today.
What’s under your bed?
Laurie and Betsy
Writing Sisters
You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. Matthew 5: 14-16
Ha! No problems about people seeing my GOOD works! Actually, I do not fear writing, but if I did, it would be because of perhaps unknowingly producing something that was not good, be it a word, a paragraph, or a book.
I have stopped writing, though, except for the blogs, because I am stuck. I need to write what Mary felt at the foot of the Cross, and I don’t know what that is. Maybe no one ever could.
Any books out there that you know of that would boost me down that road? Thanks!
Being stuck is something every writer experiences, so don’t beat yourself up. The most stimulating activity for writing is reading, and it doesn’t have to be a particular kind of book. Try books in the genre that you like to write. I love your idea of writing what Mary felt at the foot of the cross. Start by just jotting down a few thoughts about Mary – her past, what she had experienced up to that point. She had had an amazing set of life experiences all the while treasuring things in her heart. Let us know how it goes.
I just don’t know what it’s like to watch your grown son die an agonizing death and if I wait until I can “write what I know” I’d hopefully never finish this book. So . . . are there any books out there that you know of that treat that subject? Probably not. So no one will know if I’m faking it? Not true. So I could just write things like:
“Did Mary weep? We can suppose she wept. Did Mary think about the tiny baby in the grassy cradle? Who knows.”
Trifle like that. But I think I just need to move on and then if something comes to me I can write it and if not, then I can reroute that part of the book.
Oh, it is non-fiction.
Hmm. Maybe I’m more afraid than I thought. Maybe I am afraid to let myself go there . . . such an unthinkable place . . .
I feel inspired to reply to Katharine’s comment. I believe Mary, better than anyone, knew that God’s plan for man’s salvation was being fulfilled. I believe she knew Jesus could come down from the cross and knew that He wouldn’t I believe she knew He would arise and that she’d be with Him again and that she knew all this from the day the angel visited her. We don’t give Mary enough credit because we think of her as an ordinary mother, but she wasn’t. She was chosen by God for a special mission. She was the woman whose seed would crush the serpent’s head.
By the way, Sisters, I enjoy your Blog.
Thanks, Elaine.
And Katharine, I just searched “Mary mother of Jesus” on Amazon and there are lots of books available for further reading. Also, lots of hits on google, so I think there’s plenty to get your creativity flowing. Do let us know how it goes.
Elaine, I love this! You have shown a light on things I should have realized. Mary was FULL of grace. She was blessed above any woman. So . . . she could get it. Does that change her pain? I don’t know. But you have given me a starting point, in fact, a toehold I must not lose sight of. Thanks so much!
And, Sisters, I am also grateful for your simple suggestion to Google it. Good grief, I was so stuck on my feelings, I couldn’t think! Google Mary? Google the Crucifixion? It’s almost funny, but it’s where we are, if we remember it! Thanks a bunch.
As far as progress goes, hmm. The blog is going nicely. And I finally figured out who my ideal reader for the book is and how the coming resume/book blog should look, thanks to Peter Sandeen, of all things! What a world!
A world full of help. Online. Amazing.
I am so happy to see this question today. I think I have been afraid to write and I am in danger of not being fully alive. Thank you
Thank you for sharing this today. I wrote a story yesterday on my blog that I thought my daughter knew about my pregnancy with her. She read it wrong, was distraught and we spent an hour on the phone talking about it, both near in tears. It’s the story of one of the biggest spiritual events in my life, but this morning I’m still wrung out and wondering if writing is worth the pain.
Of course it is –when the glory belongs to God.
Blessings to you both.
So true michelle – “not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to your name be the glory.” Psalm 115:1
Oh, and thanks for the great quote! We had a new labrador that loved to eat flowers in the bud stage. I always think of the bud as easier to gobble up than the full-blown iris or peony. Now I can apply that to my unwritten work . . .
Well invited post. Encouraging the aspiring writers.
In fact, there should be no hesitation in flowing on paper what does going in mind about something that interested.
Great advice.
WOW, this is good, Sisters!! Great affirmation to spur me on… God bless you today–love, sis Caddo
Thank you for encouraging us!
Great post, dear sisters! Very inspiring!
God Bless You!
Thanks!
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Scared to death… am a tight little bud with no possibility of blooming. My mind won’t let me.