For many years, I felt guilty about having a calling which was not directly compatible with motherhood, i.e. being a writer.
This guilt was fomented by some well-meaning, and some envious people. Samples: “Well, I love baking, but my children need a mommy more.” “You can write after they grow up. Babies need mommies.” “Don’t put the caboose before the train.” “Trust God to give you time to write after you’ve done the housework and met the needs of your kids.” (All these while I lived in small-town America).
But, oddly, when I don’t write, I am not a brilliant mother or housewife either. I need to go into a room and be quiet and think and create for my own happiness. And if mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.
I now see clearly that my quest to be a writer and to follow Christ, are one and the same quest. That writing is my path, my calling, my vocation.
When I see Christ in my mind’s eye, when I think of pursuing Christ between the wings of the cherubim, I see a book at his heart. With “The Lord is my light,” or perhaps with “In the beginning was the word,” the current and former mottoes of Oxford University respectively.
For me, diving into Christ, and diving into my calling as a writer are becoming one and the same. Because that is what, inexplicably God called me to be and to do—to write.
And the writing is not an easy calling. For me to write well and prolifically will take dedication, discipline and self-denial.
* * *
Gerard Manley Hopkins writes,
As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies dráw fláme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.
What I do is write; and writing is me. Focusing on my writing is following God’s will for me.
More from my site
A Bracket Fungus Ladder on a Silver Birch Tree outside C.S. Lewis’ House, the Kilns
On Long Walks, Spirituality and Creativity. And Images of Lucca, Tuscany, Italy
The Lowest Bar there ever was
A Very Long Pregnancy: Or, How to Live in the Land of Unfulfilled Promises and Deferred Dreams
A new heart and spirit: A Promise. A new mind: An exhortation. A different body? Adventures in Prayer and Bible listening on the hoof
Yes, Dancingcrane, I agree with Anita. You must blog. The discipline and the reader feedback is delightful. And you meet wonderful writers through this endeavor. Keep us informed. Jeff Groins has a tutorial on blogging.
Dancing Crane, Indeed you should blog. You will so enjoy sharing your work in progress with an audience. I find blogging incredibly satisfying.
And thank you for your kind compliment!!
You have an incredible blog! This post sounded like you got into my head and wrote me. I'm a mom whose discovered the same about my vocations. My youngest are 12 now, so I do most of my writing when kids are at school. Nothing print-publish-ready yet, just a ton of pieces on and off net, scenes my characters give me & essays. I should blog maybe…
Thanks, Glynn. So glad it spoke to you. YOu have a strong calling to write–the way you've managed to write with a full time job is amazing!!
Anita – I needed this today. Thank you.