Jeez. Seriously, why do I bother? What is it that keep itching me to share? Have I just been alone too long?
.
I shared my Rumplestiltskin story I’d been working on every day for several weeks with my mother. The thing is practically writing itself. I had asked God if I would actually sit down and write, would he please help me with connecting all my ideas. After all, that was always my trouble with writing: waiting until I “felt” like it or knew beforehand what I was going to write. But one thing this past year has taught me has been not to worry about my last step, just my next one. And I’m tough enough and mature enough not to worry about the feeling and just get down to it. And God has come through. I’ve barely done any editing and it’s really knitting together. I know my target demographic and have read many books like this one, and mine could stand with them in this genre.
.
And I get that Mom and Dad aren’t big readers and when they do, they prefer fast-paced, humorous spy thrillers. So I understand that this wouldn’t have been their cup of tea anyway. But my mom read all of it and just couldn’t find anything really positive to say. My dad didn’t make it past page 12 and had only critique. I don’t know which is worse.
.
And it wasn’t even like I needed their approval to pin down my own opinion about my work. I knew exactly what I thought of it before even thinking of asking anyone else. And I couldn’t tell you why exactly I did decide to share it. Did I just want a little encouragement, an “atta boy”? Did I want someone, anyone to know what I’m doing with my top-secret life? Maybe I simply needed someone to support me, to believe in me so I wasn’t doing it all on my own.
.
That’s 0 for 2. Not a great track record.
.
And it didn’t change anything. What they thought changed nothing of what I know about my writing. But the thought that came to mind and felt good because it felt like truth was, “That’s okay; I’ve been doing this on my own this long. I can finish it up that way.” I do feel that way. I’ve been alone all along, I’m still alone, and I’ll be alone for yet another while. But a tickle between my shoulder blades hinted that that probably wasn’t the thought God wanted me to hold onto.
.
But jeez! I have to wonder if I just want too much. I’m still waiting. For things I’ve waited, at best, a few years for, and at worst, my entire life for. I’ve never been satisfied with some. All has been my only option. Does that explain why I’m still waiting, dammit, for my life to begin, for the good life to reach me? If I had only wanted a little, would my wait be over? Is it just that I want so damn much that it’ll take my whole youth to arrange it all? That can’t be right. All along I’ve been standing on the truth that God won’t waste me, and if I spend my entire youth waiting, I’m sorry – I may have no choice, but that’ll be a bit of a waste. I may be utterly incapable of changing my nature to slake my hunger for the whole world with hors d’oeurves, but am I always to wait? And wait alone?
.
Maybe I was right in sharing my journey and just incorrect in my choice of who. I’m beginning to suspect that through this whole separation experience when I’ve had no one to back me up but myself and God, when I’ve had no one who even knew anything about what my life had become, perhaps my parents and I have simply gravitated to different frequencies. How disappointed I’ve been, and how many disappointments those were stacked upon. Maybe there’s really no one yet to understand me the way B____ did. Maybe Mom and Dad just can’t help me because they don’t get me.
.
It’s not their fault. It’s not. I should say Mom made a point of conceding her reading preferences and my superior knowledge of my audience. It didn’t keep her concession from seeming like a pathetic consolation prize. Her comparison with a previous scathing review by my aunt of another manuscript of mine didn’t make me feel a whole lot better. And she still didn’t mention the quality of my writing or the originality of my reinvention. So I guess all her concessions just weren’t enough.
.
I’m still on my own and only God is holding me back from telling all the useless people milling about, “Go screw yourselves. I don’t need anybody.”
“I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart; wait, I say, on the Lord!”
- Psalm 27:13-14
“Let us not grow weary while doing good for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart.”
- Galations 6:9
“I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Jesus Christ.”
- Philippians 3:14
“Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”
- Hebrews 12:1
No comments:
Post a Comment