The Word for Writers

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Almost every few weeks, and certainly after a sabbatical, my arch nemesis arrives uninvited. There, with gleeful mockery, standing just behind my right elbow, at the corner of my writing desk, he stares. You know that foreboding feeling—intuitive hairs rise on the back of your neck, invisible yet palpable eyes pierce you from behind.

You know the fiend: Writer’s Block. With nary a word, like a monstrous magnet, he strips your thoughts bare of any and all valuable information. Your mind swipes blank. Nothing there. Nothing to say. Why do you call yourself a writer anyway?

Returning from Christmas vacation, I had a brief burst of creativity before writer’s block showed up. But after 2000 or so words flowed effortlessly from my finger tips, they stopped. Per my usual frustrated response, I grabbed the dog’s leash and headed outside. There, in sub-freezing temperatures, I marched. Shattered leaves cracked into infinitesimal pieces beneath my angry boots. Finally, as my self-pity hit a crescendo, God spoke…

Elijah must have marched like I did, head down. In his mind, a mantra of confusion and frustration kept time with his steps. The ground cracked and snapped beneath his feet too, but not because of cold. The ancient ground had not seen so much as a dew drop in several years. Thirst and hunger paralyzed the land. But God said, “Go to Zeraphath.”

I wonder if Elijah felt as I did. “Why God? Why do you tell me to do something when I have no energy, no resource, no motivation left?” But Elijah did as he was told.

When Elijah arrived at his destination, nothing improved. He came upon a lonely widow and dared to ask her for what he knew she did not have, “Please, may I have a drink of water?”

I wonder if the widow felt like me. “Why Elijah? Why do you ask me for something I do not have, something I cannot source? I am empty.”

But God isn’t known for accepting excuses, neither is He known for demanding what He does not enable. “Don’t be afraid,” Elijah told her. “Do as I have said and neither your oil nor flour will run out until the day God sends rain on the earth.”

The widow did as she was told.

God did as only He can do.

I can do nothing else. I know God called me to write.

When I returned to my desk, writer’s block grinned menacingly at me again. But with renewed conviction, I took my seat, found the home keys, typed the date and then, “Dear Father…”.

I took a deep breath and began a prayer. “I will do as you have told me. I know with confidence that my words will not run out until the day you deem this calling complete. Thank you that your Word will not return void. Thank you that you supply all my needs in Christ Jesus—even the words to share your Gospel with the world. Fill my mind and mouth with thoughts and words that are pleasing to you.”

Suddenly, I felt a rush of cool relief spread across my shoulders, like a mantle settling comfortably. I relaxed and glanced behind me. My enemy had vanished. I heard a voice in my spirit, “And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,”. Isaiah 30:21a

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