My husband told me today, "I’m tired of disappointment.” This was said after he found out he’d bleached a stain in his new shorts. It was said after he found out a dear friend lost his sixteen-year-old grandson this weekend.
We’ve been living with heavy disappointment now for almost two years. Disappointment in not getting meaningful employment. Disappointment in not being able to see friends and family. Disappointment in watching a life’s savings disappear.
It’s easy for disappointment to become a way of life—a way of thinking. A reason to give up.
And that isn’t good. Because giving up isn’t an option.
As writers, we experience similar degrees of frustrations, disappointments, rejections. We wonder if what we’re doing is making any difference. We wonder if there’s one more book to read or conference to attend—something –that will make our writing profession take off.
Giving up on writing isn’t a choice I’m willing to follow either.
With life we just need to get out of bed every morning. We need to show up. God expects us to do that. After all, we’re here to serve him. Not us.
Same goes with writing. If writing is my talent and I feel led to write—then I need to show up at my computer and do what it takes. Write and submit. Learn and grow.
I’m not sure why my husband and I are going through all this stuff right now. I might never ever know. I don’t know how my writing will affect someone. I might never know that either.
But aren’t you glad God does?