I failed this week.
I was so proud of myself earlier. I had planned, I was organized, I was ready. I started my Facebook page, did all my platforming, wrote an average of 400 words every day, peer-edited with my friends, and — failed.
Because here I am, looking at my blog on Friday night, with nothing to publish. Nothing worth giving you. Not to say I don’t have plenty of articles and ideas lying around in my draft box — I do. And they’re all fine. But if this was in real life, they would be scattered all across my desk, scribbled and crossed out, fluttering despondently in the wind from my empty open window. As it is though in this digital age, they just sit composedly in their nice little list, looking up at me asking, “What is wrong?”
Nothing — and everything.
Because none of them seem to actually speak. None of them seem to actually move. Sure, they have nice sentences, nice thoughts, but where is the beauty, where is the emotion, where is the meaning? It’s slipped away. I use logic and reasoning, and yet it seems that Truth with its beauty has quietly slipped away. And all today I’ve been searching through my words, throwing sentences and thoughts aside in my flustered hunt, shoving everything off my desk as I try to find where it went.
And only after everything was cleared away, after everything was bare, that I realized. I realized where I lost Beauty. I realized where I lost Truth. I realized where I lost Light.
I had got so caught up in my broadcasting, in my schedules, in my being consistent, that I lost what this truly was for. Should I want others to hear my words, should I want to be prepared, should I want to be diligent? Of course. But I did it at the expense of my writing’s true purpose. At my life’s true purpose.
Because, to be blunt, none of this is for all of you. None of this is for a publisher. None of this is even for the stepping stones to that paid writing job, providing for my family at home. Sure, all of those are nice, but it’s not the real reason. And though my own growth and understanding by wrestling out my thoughts has its part; ultimately, it’s not the reason.
The reason I write, is to see more of Him. The reason I live, is to shine more and more spotlight on Him — the only One who deserves it. My purpose is to glorify Him.
And the reason why I failed this week? Because I tried to do that in my own strength. I tried to show others His power, without relying on it myself. Is it any wonder my words lacked the glimmer of His glory, my thoughts the breath of His life?
Because I don’t need God only when I have temptations, only when I’m wrestling out something. I need Him every moment, every act.
When I wash the dishes, I need Him. When I go on a walk, I need Him. When I clean house, when I change diapers, when I drive to work, when I buy ice-cream for a friend, everywhere and everywhen, I need Him.
By Him all things consist — including my life. (Col 1:17)
Because when I rely on my own schedules, my own plans, I forget. I forget the only One who has the only unchangeable plan, the only One who knows the end from the beginning.(Isa 46:10)
We don’t have to worry about meeting our appointments, meeting our word counts, meeting our goals. Our main worry, every day, should be meeting Him. In prayer, in His Word, in lifting our hearts ever to Him. Let us lift up our eyes from this mess of calendars and to-do lists, look at Him and declare “How Great Thou Art!”
So I failed this week. But that’s a good thing. Because when I cannot stand I’ll fall on Him. I need Him every hour, every moment. Trying to work without Him is like trying to work while holding my breath. Frustrating, difficult, and ultimately unsustainable.
But when we behold the glory of the Lord, we are changed into the same image from glory to glory. (2 Co 3:18) When we turn our eyes on Jesus, letting the things of earth dim; we, like Moses, will ourselves reflect His glory. And Beauty and light, Joy and peace can flow forth again, as we become more and more like Him.
Lord I need you, O I need you.
Every hour I need you.
My one defense, my righteousness,
O God, how I need you.